3  1822  01232  8548 


m 


m  mm 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 
SAN  DIEGO 

^^ -  — 


I  II  MM  II    III  I  II! II  "      Vp 

3   1822  01232  8548 


7 


BOI.KYX 


THE 


HOUSE  OF  THE  WIZARD 


BY 

M.   IMLAY   TAYLOR 

AUTHOR  OF 

"ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE,"  "AN  IMPERIAL  LOVER," 
"A  YANKEE  VOLUNTEER" 


m 


CHICAGO 
A.   C.   McCLURG   £    CO. 

1900 


COPYRIGHT 
BY  A.  C.  MCCLURG  AND  Co. 

A.  D.  1899 


A II  rights  reserved 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  THE  CAREWS  OF  DEVON 7 

II.  A  MESSENGER  FROM  MY  LORD  PRIVY 

SEAL 18 

III.  MISTRESS   BETTY  GOES   OUT  INTO  THE 

WORLD 30 

IV.  THE  QUEEN  AT  KIMBOLTON 40 

V.   THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  THE  RUSSET  CLOAK  52 

VI.   THE  WIZARD'S  VISIT 65 

VII.   MISTRESS  CAREW'S  ALLEGIANCE  ...  82 

VIII.  THE  KING'S  MESSENGERS 93 

IX.  THE  MAN  WITH  A  SCAR 102 

X.   MISTRESS  BETTY  GOES  TO  COURT     .     .  112 

XL   OLD  MADAM  AT  HOME 126 

XII.  THE  PRECONTRACT 142 

XIII.  THE  QUEEN  AT  GREENWICH     ....  152 

XIV.  THE  STRANGE  HOUSE  BY  THE  THAMES  162 
XV.   A  CRY  OF  TREASON 172 

XVI.   MY  LADY  CRABTREE  TO  THE  RESCUE  .  189 

XVII.   BETTY  AND  HER  CHAMPION      ....  201 

XVIII.  A  ROYAL  LOVE  TOKEN 208 

XIX.  THE  JOUSTS  AT  GREENWICH     ....  215 

XX.   IN  THE  APPLE  ORCHARD 224 


vi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXI.  A  MESSENGER  FROM  LONDON     .     .    .  234 

XXII.  MY  LORD  PRIVY  SKAL 242 

XXIII.  MISTRESS  BETTY  USES  HER  WHIP      .  256 

XXIV.  LOVE  AT  THE  TRAITOR'S  GATE      .     .  265 
XXV.  A  SEASON  OF  WAITING 282 

XXVI.  A  PRINCE'S  BAPTISM 289 

XXVII.  THE  WIZARD  IN  THE  TOWER    .     .     .  300 

XXVIII.  A  SNARE 309 

XXIX.  MASTER  CROSS-EYES 319 

XXX.  SIR  WILLIAM  WINS  A  WAGER  .     .     .  327 

XXXI.  THE  WIZARD'S  FATE 337 


The  House  of  the  Wizard 

CHAPTER   I 

THE    CAREWS    OF    DEVON 

IN  the  days  of  King  Henry  VIII.,  between 
Horiiton  and  Exeter,  at  Luppit,  stood  Mohun's 
Ottery,  the  great  house  of  the  Carews  of 
Devon.  Built  like  a  fortress,  it  was  too  strong 
to  be  reduced,  save  by  cannon,  and  its  walls 
had  sheltered  for  many  years  a  race  of  gallant 
gentlemen,  while  its  gates  were  ever  open  with 
a  generous  hospitality  that  welcomed  both  the 
rich  and  the  poor.  Its  furnishings  and  tapes 
tries  were  so  magnificent  that  it  was  commonly 
reported  that  they  would  grace  the  king's 
palace  at  Greenwich  and  not  suffer  by  contrast 
with  any  royal  trappings. 

The  Carews  were  famous,  both  at  home  and 
abroad,  and  had  been  since  the  first  Carru 
came  over  with  the  Norman  Conqueror.  There 
was  never  a  quarrel  on  English  soil,  or  for  the 
English  cause,  that  a  Carew  was  not  in  the 
forefront  of  the  battle.  One  had  been  Lord 
Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  one  a  captain  of  Harfleur 

7 


8  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

for  King  Henry  V.,  and  another  fought  for 
Henry  VII.  A  proud  and  valiant  race,  claim 
ing  kindred  with  the  Geraldines,  loyal  and  cour 
teous  to  their  friends  and  ready  with  sword  and 
dagger  for  England's  foes  and  their  own.  Sir 
William  Carew,  the  head  of  the  Devon  branch 
of  the  family,  held  noble  sway  at  Mohun's 
Ottery,  and  day  by  day  a  hundred  poor  and 
more  were  fed  by  his  open  hand,  for  in  those 
times  there  was  no  niggardly  charity,  although 
the  king's  laws  spared  not  the  valiant  beggar. 
Every  gentleman's  house  was  in  itself  a  tavern, 
and  men  of  all  conditions  came  unbidden  to  the 
board,  finding,  too,  a  night's  lodging,  even 
though  it  might  be  but  a  bed  of  straw  upon  the 
stone  floor  of  the  hall.  The  food  was  neither 
scanty  nor  of  mean  order;  cooks  who  fed  a  hun 
dred  or  so  at  one  meal  were  accustomed  to 
serving  in  a  day  beef,  mutton,  venison,  pigs, 
geese,  plovers,  curlews,  besides  pike,  bream, 
and  porpoise,  and  of  ale  and  wine  there  was 
no  lack.  A  plentiful,  free  feast  that  drew  a 
multitude  of  pensioners;  the  odors  that  floated 
from  the  kitchens,  even  on  a  fast  day,  brought 
a  retinue  of  visitors  to  the  doors,  and  after 
meal  time  the  sounds  of  revelry  told  their 
own  story,  giving  ample  proof  that  there  were 
no  empty  stomachs. 


THE   CAREWS  OF  DEVON  g 

It  was  Shrove  Tuesday  in  the  year  1535, 
and  the  midday  dinner  was  over  at  Mohun's 
Ottery,  as  great  a  company  as  usual  having 
been  entertained.  Upon  the  doorstep  stood 
Sir  William  Carew  and  his  guest,  Master 
Raleigh,  the  father  of  Sir  Walter,  who  was 
then  unborn.  These  two  worthies  were  en 
gaged  in  deep  and  grave  converse  upon  public 
matters,  for  the  Act  of  the  Supremacy  had  been 
followed  by  the  Treason  Act,  and  Sir  Thomas 
More  and  Bishop  Fisher  were  in  the  Tower, 
having  refused  to  take  the  oath  without  condi 
tions.  So  there  was  no  lack  of  matter  for  dis 
cussion,  and  the  faces  of  these  two  were  neither 
unruffled  nor  jolly,  though  they  had  so  lately 
dined.  However,  their  conversation  was 
doomed  to  a  sharp  interruption.  A  horse  and 
rider  came  suddenly  in  sight  upon  the  high 
road,  advancing  at  so  mad  a  gait  that  both  men 
paused  in  their  talk  to  watch  the  approach.  A 
great  bay  horse,  flecked  with  foam  and  with 
blood  upon  his  flank,  showing  a  cruel  spur,  and 
on  his  back  a  large  and  handsome  man,  gayly 
dressed,  his  velvet  cloak  embroidered  with  gold 
and  his  hat  beplumed,  but  reeling  in  his  saddle, 
keeping  his  seat,  as  it  seemed,  only  by  a  miracle. 

"It  is  Sir  Thomas,"  Raleigh  remarked,  after 
a  second  glance  at  the  red  face  of  the  rider. 


10  THE  HOUSE    OF   THE    WIZARD 

"Ay,"  retorted  Carew,  bitterly,  "my  worthy 
brother  and,  as  usual,  in  his  cups.  A  naughty 
rogue  it  is,  and  like  to  be  a  disgrace  to  his 
blood." 

As  he  spoke,  he  fixed  a  scornful  gaze  upon 
the  drunken  man  who  was  now  coming  to  the 
door,  trying,  too,  to  sit  straight  in  the  saddle, 
as  if  he  knew  that  his  brother's  disapproving 
eyes  were  on  him.  A  little  way  from  the 
entrance  stood  a  large  stone  horse-block,  from 
which  the  women  of  the  household  mounted, 
and  toward  this  Sir  Thomas  Carew  urged  his 
horse. 

"He  has  been  gaming  at  Exeter,"  Sir 
William  remarked  coldly;  "he  is  ever  thus 
after  he  has  been  brawling  and  drinking  in  a 
public  house.  I  have  not  seen  him  for  a 
twelvemonth,  and  I  doubt  not  that  he  comes 
to  borrow  a  hundred  pounds ;  such  is  like 
to  be  his  case.  Ton  my  soul,  a  meritorious 
beggar ! " 

The  words  were  scarcely  spoken  ere  Sir 
Thomas  struck  his  spur  again  into  his  horse's 
bleeding  flank.  The  great  brute  plunged, 
swerving  madly  to  one  side;  his  tipsy  rider, 
reeling  from  the  saddle,  fell  headlong  upon  the 
stone  block,  rolled  over  and  lay  in  a  hideous 
heap  at  his  brother's  feet.  The  horse  turning 


THE   CAREWS  OF  DEVON  II 

about  as  suddenly,  trampled  him  under  foot 
and  rushed  back  toward  the  stables,  clearing  a 
wide  path  in  the  crowd  of  spectators  who  had 
come  out  to  view  the  accident.  Sir  William 
and  Raleigh  both  hastened  to  the  fallen  man, 
but  something  in  the  limpness  of  his  figure 
told  its  own  story.  He  lay  face  downward, 
and  they  turned  him  over  to  find  a  lump  of 
mangled  flesh,  his  neck  being  broken  just 
below  the  skull,  and  his  drink-blurred  eyes 
stared  into  space. 

"Stone  dead,"  Carew  said  sternly;  "cut  off 
in  his  sins.  God  pity  him,  for  he  is  like 
enough  to  be  damned  !  " 

"Here  is  a  sad  end,"  rejoined  Raleigh, 
looking  gravely  at  the  dead  man;  "a  gallant 
gentleman  brought  into  such  a  case  by  evil 
communications.  Lend  a  hand,  good  fellow, 
and  we  will  carry  in  this  body,"  he  added, 
addressing  the  nearest  bystander,  for  the  curious 
crowd  had  gathered  in  a  constantly  narrowing 
circle  around  the  central  figures. 

"Let  be,  Raleigh,"  Sir  William  interposed 
coldly;  "these  grooms  shall  take  him  up;  he 
deserved  less  for  the  dishonor  he  has  brought 
upon  his  name." 

With  the  same  proud  indignation,  unforgiv 
ing  even  to  the  dead,  he  directed  the  removal 


12  THE  HOUSE    OF   THE    WIZARD 

of  the  corpse,  and  then  he  and  Raleigh  fol 
lowed  it  into  the  house.  Without,  all  tongues 
were  loosed  at  their  departure  and  gossip 
flowed  on  every  hand,  and  there  was  food, 
enough  for  it  in  such  a  life  and  such  a  death 
as  this. 

"  I  told  Sir  Tom  't  would  be  so !  "  one  of  the 
spectators  said,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  felt 
justified;  "that  brute  was  like  to  end  some 
man's  life,  and  who  but  a  Carew  would  back 
him  in  the  state  of  liquor  that  yonder  poor 
gentleman  was  ?  " 

"  That  horse?  Why,  man,  he  held  him  above 
all  else  he  had,"  cried  another;  "he  valued  the 
beast  above  his  daughter." 

"Like  enough,"  was  the  reply;  "certain  it 
is  that  he  valued  him  above  his  wife,  poor 
lady ! " 

"  She  has  been  dead  these  many  years,  I 
take  it,"  said  a  third;  for,  after  the  fashion  of 
all  such  leeches,  they  were  eager  to  discuss  the 
affairs  of  the  family  whose  substance  they 
devoured. 

"Ay,  dead  enough,  good  luck  to  her!"  re 
joined  the  first  speaker.  "They  do  say  Sir 
Thomas  wagered  her  at  dice  the  very  night  on 
which  his  daughter  was  born,  and  lost  his  bet, 
too;  but  his  opponent  levied  not  thq  debt,  and 


THE   CAREWS  OF  DEVON  13 

the  poor  lady,  dying  not  many  years  thereafter, 
perchance  never  knew  it.  Howbeit,  it  is 
certain  that  had  she  known  it,  she  could 
not  have  hated  him  more  heartily  than  she 
did." 

"That's  true  enough,  my  masters,"  said  an 
ancient  crone.  "  I  knew  her  woman,  and  a 
sorry  death  the  poor  thing  made.  Even  at  that 
hour  her  husband  was  as  tipsy  as  he  was  but 
now,  and  came  into  her  chamber  blubbering,  as 
a  sot  will  sometimes,  and  with  great  oaths,  that 
he  would  guard  her  child.  My  lady  heeded 
not  his  voice,  but  cried  out  to  her  tirewoman 
that  the  end  was  near,  and  she  thanked  the 
dear  God  for  it,  and  to  let  her  go  in  peace! 
She  looked  but  once  at  her  little  daughter  and 
then  fell  to  weeping  and  blessing  her,  saying 
that  the  queen  would  care  for  this  lamb,  and 
so  turned  her  white  face  to  the  wall  and 
died." 

"  The  queen,  —  did  she  commend  her  baby 
to  the  queen?"  they  all  exclaimed. 

"Ay,  ay,"  the  old  woman  answered,  "to  the 
queen's  grace;  there  was  but  one  queen  then, 
but  now  there  is  the  old  queen  and  Queen  Nan 
Bullen,  and  God  wot  how  many  queens  there 
be!" 

"Hold   thy  tongue,    mistress!"   cried    one; 


14  THE  HOUSE    OF   THE    WIZARD 

"thou  wilt  be  up  by  the  Treason  Act,  and 
hang  at  Tyburn,  if  thou  hast  so  foul  a  tongue  !  " 

"Belike  I  shall,  and  all  of  ye,"  the  old  crea 
ture  laughed  shrilly;  "but  it  would  not  profit 
much  to  twist  my  shrivelled  neck,  there  be  fairer 
ones  that  would  furnish  a  better  entertainment. " 

"Where  is  Carew's  child?"  cried  one  whose 
thirst  for  knowledge  was  not  yet  slaked. 

"  Hidden  somewhere  in  that  old  nest  of  his," 
returned  one  of  the  gossips;  "a  sad  life  she  's 
had  of  it  and  is  like  to  be  in  a  worse  case  yet. 
Sir  Thomas  never  did  her  a  good  turn  until 
this  day;  the  worst  he  did  was  to  father  her. 
An  ill-favored  wench,  too,  when  last  I  saw  her, 
thin  and  yellow  and  with  a  cold  way  that  made 
no  friends." 

"Then  ye  have  not  seen  her  lately,"  the 
old  woman  said  with  a  chuckle;  "she  has  shot 
up  like  a  young  sapling,  and  has  eyes  like  two 
stars,  and  a  smile  that  will  turn  many  a  young 
fool's  head,  albeit  her  purse  is  empty  and  her 
kirtle  patched." 

"  Poor  wench,  poor  Mistress  Betty,  my  heart 
doth  ache  for  her,"  a  kinder  woman  said, 
shaking  her  head. 

Strangely  enough,  at  that  same  moment 
Mistress  Betty  Carew  was  spoken  of  within  the 
house  by  Sir  William  and  his  wife.  He  turned 


THE    CAREWS  OF  DEVON  15 

from  his  brother's  corpse,  a  certain  stern  re 
lenting  in  his  face,  and  said  to  Lady  Carew, 
"There  is  the  child." 

"Ay,  we  must  have  her  here,  William,"  his 
wife  replied  at  once;  "you  may  not  leave  your 
own  blood  in  so  poor  a  strait  as  he  is  like  to 
have  left  the  maid." 

Sir  William  mused.  "How  old  is  she?" 
he  asked. 

"Seventeen,  come  Michaelmas,"  Lady 
Carew  replied,  watchful  of  her  husband's  face, 
her  own  heart  full  of  compassion  for  the 
orphan. 

"I  know  not  how  she  may  be  bred  up,"  he 
said  doubtfully;  "  she  was  a  plain  wench  when 
last  I  saw  her,  but  that  is  five  years  since. 
Well,  well,  she  must  even  come  and  follow 
this  wretched  man's  funeral,  and  then  you 
and  she  will  doubtless  find  a  way  to  settle  it 
to  your  own  liking." 

So  it  was  that  Mistress  Betty  came  ta 
Mohun's  Ottery;  a  tall,  slim  girl  in  a  black 
gown  and  with  a  calm  look  on  her  young  face 
that  startled  her  uncle,  so  unlike  was  it  to  any 
thing  in  youth.  Sir  Thomas  was  carried  from 
the  home  of  his  ancestors  with  all  clue  state 
and  ceremony,  but  there  was  no  pretence  of 
mourning,  and  the  well-born  rogue  was  laid  in 


1 6  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

his  narrow  house  without  a  tear.  After  it  was 
over,  the  affairs  of  the  orphan  were  soon  dis 
posed  of  by  Sir  William.  Finding  that  she 
was  dovverless,  save  for  a  beauty  of  which  her 
childhood  had  given  no  promise,  he  kept  her 
under  his  own  roof,  and  she  lived  there  until 
other  events  took  her  to  far  other  scenes.  She 
was  then  in  her  girlhood,  growing  every  day  in 
beauty  of  a  strong  and  striking  type,  and  carry 
ing  her  head  like  a  queen  rather  than  a  penni 
less  maid  living  in  dependence  at  her  uncle's 
house.  Her  form,  though  slender,  gave  the 
promise  of  a  richer  outline,  and  as  she  grew 
happier  in  her  new  home,  a  color  came  into 
her  cheeks,  a  sparkle  to  her  eyes  that  made 
her  lovely  in  the  sight  of  many  who  marvelled 
that  so  plain  a  child  should  grow  so  beautiful. 
Lady  Carew  fretted  much,  however,  at  the 
will  that  Mistress  Betty  showed,  which  brooked 
no  crossing,  and  the  tongue  that  could,  in 
anger,  cut  like  a  whip,  for  this  beauty  was  no 
saint.  There  was,  however,  that  in  her  lordly 
nature  which  scorned  all  meanness  and  base 
ness,  a  nobility  that  shone  through  the  imper 
fections  of  her  temper  like  a  star,  and  looked 
out  through  the  windows  of  her  great  eyes,  — 
eyes  that  were  clear  brown,  heavily  fringed 
with  black  lashes,  and  set  beneath  two  straight, 


THE   CAREIVS   OF  DEVON  IJ 

black  brows.  Her  mouth  closed,  perhaps,  a 
trifle  too  firmly  for  so  young  a  woman,  and  her 
chin  was  clear  cut  as  a  man's,  but  her  voice 
was  sweet  and  low,  and  there  was  witchery  in 
her  smile. 


CHAPTER  II 

A  MESSENGER  FROM  MY  LORD  PRIVY  SEAL 

MICHAELMAS  had  come  and  gone,  and  it  was 
past  the  middle  of  October  when  a  messenger 
came  down  post-haste  from  London.  It  was 
after  supper,  and  there  was  revelry  among  the 
retainers  and  visitors  at  Mohun's  Ottery.  In 
the  great  hall,  however,  there  were  but  few; 
Sir  William  had  only  his  favored  guest,  Master 
Raleigh,  and  besides  these  two  were  Lady 
Carew,  her  daughter,  Mistress  Cicely,  and  her 
niece.  There  were  three  sons,  but  none  were 
home.  Peter,  who  ran  away  to  France,  was 
even  then  with  Sir  John  Wallop ;  that  same 
Sir  Peter  who  made  the  barns  of  Crediton 
smoke  for  the  Lord  Protector  in  after  years. 
That  evening  the  little  company  sat  about  the 
fire,  the  women  working  with  their  needles  in 
a  group  at  the  left,  and  at  the  right  sat  Raleigh 
watching  his  host  brew  a  posset.  It  was  a 
matter  of  grave  import  to  Carew,  and  he  let  no 
other  hand  mix  the  rare  composition,  but  stood 
over  it;  a  noble  figure,  a  man  in  middle  life, 
having  a  fine  head  and  grizzled  hair,  with  the 


MESSENGER   FROM  MY  LORD  PRIVY  SEAL     19 

keen,  bright  eye  and  strong  jaw  of  a  resource 
ful  and  stubborn  nature.  His  rich  dress  of 
Flemish  velvet,  dark  as  the  dregs  of  wine,  his 
great  lace  ruff  and  heavy  chain  of  gold,  set 
off  his  person  and  made  it  the  more  strik 
ing  in  contrast  to  the  darker,  plainer  garb  of 
Raleigh.  The  guest  watched  his  friend  stir 
the  beverage  and  smiled  at  his  ardor. 

"What  secret  lurks  in  it,"  he  said,  "that 
you  let  no  man  brew  it  for  you,  Carew?  I 
should  scarce  be  willing  to  take  the  pains  that 
you  have  this  night,  though  I  do  heartily 
acknowledge  you  the  king  of  posset  makers." 

"  If  it  be  not  worth  the  pains,  it  is  not  worth 
the  drinking,"  replied  Sir  William;  "  't  is  like 
a  fine  child,  it  may  not  come  into  the  world 
without  some  travail  and  a  good  leech.  See  you, 
friend  Raleigh,  there  is  a  secret  in  stirring  it 
aright  and  putting  in  the  parts  in  due  season. 
If  the  cream  and  almonds  be  not  wisely  boiled 
with  the  amber  and  musk,  and  if  you  heat  not  the 
sack  before  you  put  in  the  eggs,  then  is  there 
confusion,  worse  than  these  late  troubles  have 
brought  upon  this  realm,  and  caused  much  in  the 
same  way,  too,  by  a  domestic  disagreement." 

Master  Raleigh  shook  his  head  gravely  at 
this,  his  mind  slipping  away  from  the  posset  as 
his  next  words  betrayed. 


JO  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"It  will  be  happy  for  the  realm  if  it  prove 
but  a  domestic  quarrel,"  he  said  thoughtfully, 
"since  the  Act  of  the  Succession  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  there  is  much  foreign  meddling, 
and,  I  fear  me,  plots  against  the  king's  majesty, 
made  over  seas,  are  foster-mothered  here  at 
Bugden ;  albeit,  I  do  not  greatly  blame  that 
noble  lady  that  she  will  not  yield.  To  her  it 
must  seem  a  sore  and  bewildering  visitation  of 
evil." 

"God  help  her!"  cried  Lady  Carew;  "she 
was  a  good  wife  to  the  king,  and  deserveth 
better  at  his  hands." 

"Hush,  madam!"  retorted  her  lord,  sternly; 
"a  woman's  heart  is  more  full  of  pity  than  of 
wisdom.  It  is  not  for  us  to  dispute  the  matter ; 
there  is  talk  enough,  and  no  little  harm  from  it. 
The  marriage  hath  been  set  aside,  and  let  us 
hear  no  more  of  it  while  there  is  another  queen 
and  an  infant  princess." 

"  Ay,  it  is  an  easy  matter  for  a  man  to  for 
get  his  wife  for  a  pretty  face,"  replied  the  good 
dame,  hotly;  "this  is  a  policy  that  men  like, 
since  it  favoreth  their  own  slips  upon  the  road; 
but  no  good  will  come  of  it,  I  warrant." 

Raleigh  laughed,  looking  from  the  husband 
to  the  wife;  and  even  Sir  William  smiled, 
though  a  little  grimly. 


MESSENGER  FROM  MY  LORD  PRIVY  SEAL     21 

"The  women  are  all  alike,"  he  said;  "there 
is  a  great  cackling  amongst  them  over  this, 
and  if  the  petticoats  could  set  the  kingdom  in 
order,  I  doubt  not  one  fair  lady  would  hang  as 
high  as  Haman." 

"I  blame  them  not  for  their  pity  for  one  we 
know,"  Raleigh  answered  quietly;  "it  seems, 
forsooth,  a  great  wrong,  yet  would  I  not  see 
the  Lady  Mary  come  to  the  throne  to  bring 
back  the  Bishop  of  Rome  and  the  Spaniards. 
These  last  I  loved  not  ever;  albeit  there  is 
cause  for  mourning  that  we  lose  with  them  the 
Flanders  trade.  Yet  my  heart  has  not  been 
in  all  these  acts;  the  fall  of  Sir  Thomas  More 
was,  in  itself,  grief  enough  to  me,  for  I  had 
much  friendship  for  that  virtuous  gentleman. " 

"Could  it  not  have  been  averted?"  asked 
Lady  Carew,  sadly;  "he  and  Fisher  both 
consented  to  swear  to  the  Act  of  the  Succes 
sion,  with  an  exception,  as  I  heard;  could  not 
this  suffice?" 

"Nay,  madam,"  Raleigh  answered  quietly, 
"  since  the  very  clauses  they  excepted  to  were 
those  which  did  declare  the  king's  first  mar 
riage  illegal,  and  his  present  one  legal.  Of 
what  profit  would  it  be  to  swear  allegiance  to 
the  Princess  Elizabeth  and,  in  the  same  breath, 
to  refuse  her  legitimacy  ?  It  may  not  be.  We 


22  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

must  have  a  settled  succession;  if  the  king 
have  not  male  issue,  I  fear  me  there  will  be 
war  in  any  case.  Besides  the  Lady  Mary  and 
the  troubles  that  my  Lady  Salisbury  is  like  to 
hatch  in  the  cause  of  the  White  Rose,  there 
is  the  King  of  Scots,  and  verily  no  English 
stomach  can  digest  him  and  not  vomit" 

"Nay,  forsooth!"  exclaimed  Sir  William; 
"there  shall  be  no  Scotch  dressing  to  an  Eng 
lish  pudding  while  there  is  a  sword  in  Devon 
shire.  If  the  king  could  but  get  a  boy  there 
might  be  an  end  in  peace,  but  as  it  is,  one 
girl  child  set  up  against  another,  and  one-half 
the  kingdom  crying  '  Mary,'  the  other  '  Eliza 
beth,'  and  so  blood  and  fire  from  Land's  End 
to  the  Tweed,  and,  eftsoons,  the  King  of 
Scots !  " 

"  Friend  Carew,  let  not  thy  posset  burn,  for 
all  that,"  said  Master  Raleigh,  smiling,  for  in 
his  vexation  Sir  William  had  well  nigh  for 
gotten  his  brewing. 

"'Tis  ready,"  Carew  answered,  taking  it 
from  the  fire;  "Cicely,  wench,  hast  ground 
the  amber  and  sugar  for  it  ?  " 

As  he  spoke,  there  was  a  great  stir  without, 
the  sound  of  hurrying  feet  and  voices.  The 
group  by  the  fire  paused  in  their  talk  to  listen, 
and  looked  down  toward  the  door  at  the  lower 


MESSENGER  FROM  MY  LORD  PRIVY  SEAL    2$ 

end.  In  a  moment  it  was  opened  and  an  attend 
ant  came  swiftly  across  the  hall  and  addressed 
Sir  William,  who  still  stirred  the  posset  while 
Mistress  Cicely  sprinkled  the  amber  over  it. 

"A  messenger  from  London,  your  worship," 
the  servant  announced  hurriedly,  "and  he 
craves  leave  to  speak  with  you  at  once." 

"  From  whom  ?  "  asked  Carew,  shortly. 

"My  lord  privy  seal,"  replied  the  man,  in 
an  awestricken  tone. 

Sir  William's  face  showed  both  surprise  and 
anxiety,  but  his  manner  changed  but  little. 

"  Where  have  you  got  him  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Without,  sir;  shall  I  bring  him  here?" 

"  Nay,  I  will  go  to  him,"  Carew  replied,  after 
an  instant  of  thought.  "  Raleigh,  drink  thou 
the  sack,  I  will  return  again; "  and  he  followed 
the  servant  from  the  hall. 

Lady  Carew  glanced  nervously  across  at  her 
guest. 

"  May  it  be  trouble  ?  "  she  asked  in  an  anxious 
voice. 

Raleigh  shook  his  head.  "  In  these  times 
we  cannot  know,  madam,"  he  replied,  "but  I 
take  it  that  Sir  William  stands  well  with  the 
king's  highness  and  with  Cromwell." 

"Ay,  so  we  believe,"  she  said,  speaking 
low,  "but  which  of  us  can  know  how  soon 


24  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

change  may  come?  Wolsey,  More,  Fisher, 
the  unhappy  and  gracious  lady  at  Bugden ! 
Why  may  not  my  good  lord  be  caught  also  in 
the  toils?" 

A  shadow  crossed  Raleigh's  face,  but  it  was 
only  for  the  moment;  after  it  came  his  ready 
smile. 

"Madam,"  he  said  gently,  "I  know  not  how 
it  may  be,  but  I  am  sure  that  Sir  William's 
honest  heart  and  clean  hands  are  truly  valued 
by  the  king's  grace;  you  know  the  saying  is 
that  '  King  Harry  loves  a  man,'  and  nowhere 
in  this  realm  will  he  find  a  more  valiant  soldier 
or  a  more  honest  and  God-fearing  gentleman 
than  your  husband;  albeit,  Sir  William  may 
—  from  his  own  frankness  —  have  made  some 
enemies.  A  great-hearted  man  who  dealeth 
honestly  is  like  to  have  them,  for  there  be 
many  who  do  hate  the  odor  of  the  truth." 

Lady  Carew  sighed.  "  It  may  be  that  my 
heart  is  over-anxious,"  she  said;  "these  be 
troubled  times,  and  Sir  William  hath  often 
told  me  that  my  outspoken  sympathy  with  that 
good  queen  is  like  to  bring  him  into  evil 
straits." 

There  was  no  more  time  for  the  good  dame's 
fears  and  misgivings,  for  at  this  moment  Sir 
William  returned,  followed  by  a  young  man  of 


fine  bearing,  whose  rich  attire  was  besprinkled 
with  mud  from  hard  riding. 

"Madam,  I  bring  you  a  welcome  visitor," 
Carew  said  briefly.  "  My  wife  and  Master 
Raleigh,  this  is  Master  Simon  Raby,  the  son 
of  Lord  Raby  of  Sussex." 

The  young  stranger  made  his  obeisance  with 
the  easy  grace  of  a  courtier,  drawing  near  to 
the  group  by  the  fire,  and  at  Sir  William's 
invitation  laying  aside  his  cloak  and  disclos 
ing  a  gallant  figure.  A  tall  man,  broad- 
shouldered  enough,  yet  graceful,  with  a  fine, 
frank  face,  which  had  in  it  the  pink  and  white 
color  of  a  girl's,  but  bold  and  brave  enough  to 
bear  this  dainty  touch  of  nature.  His  hair 
was  chestnut  color,  and  his  dark  eyes  were 
keen,  but  with  a  merry  glance  in  them.  He 
wore  the  rich  dress  of  the  court,  his  velvet 
doublet  slashed  with  satin  and  edged  with  fur, 
Flanders  lace  upon  his  ruff,  and  in  the  side  of 
his  velvet  cap  were  set  three  crimson  feathers, 
clasped  with  a  great  jewel,  while  his  velvet 
cloak  was  lined  with  crimson  sarsenet.  Cer 
tainly  a  figure  for  the  two  young  girls  to  look 
at  in  some  amazement,  being  little  used  to 
court  gallants  down  in  Devonshire;  and  while 
they  viewed  him,  no  doubt  approvingly  but  in 
discreet  silence,  his  eyes  rested  in  some 


26  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

wonder  and  manifest  admiration  upon  the 
glowing  face  of  Mistress  Betty.  All  the  time, 
however,  he  talked  with  Master  Raleigh,  while 
Lady  Carew  and  her  husband  spoke  apart.  Sir 
William  held  in  his  hand  a  letter,  of  which 
he  evidently  had  much  to  say,  and  both  he  and 
his  wife  glanced  frequently  at  the  two  young 
maidens  by  the  fire.  At  last  Carew  turned 
abruptly  to  his  niece. 

"Betty,"  he  said,  "what  say  you  to  a  brief 
absence  from  home,  that  you  may  attend  upon 
a  great  lady,  who  is  in  poor  health  and  —  un 
happy,  and  so  has  need  of  your  service  ? " 

Mistress  Betty  looked  up  amazed,  with  a 
pretty  deepening  of  the  color  in  her  cheeks, 
and  it  was  noted  that  Master  Raby  listened  to 
her  answer  with  much  attention. 

"I  am  so  happy  here  at  Mohun's  Ottery, 
good  uncle,"  she  said,  "that  I  love  not  the 
thought  of  quitting  it ;  yet  so  deep  am  I  in  your 
debt  that  it  is  for  you  to  direct  me  as  you  will, 
and  for  me  to  obey  with  love  and  cheerfulness." 

Sir  William  smiled.  "Wisely  and  modestly 
spoken,  wench,"  he  said,  "and  I  have  so  little 
wish  to  part  with  you  that  I  would  fain  find 
an  excuse  to  my  lord  privy  seal,  but  there  is 
none.  Therefore  prepare  for  the  journey;  to 
morrow  morning  you  will  ride  with  me." 


MESSENGER  FROM  MY  LORD  PRIVY  SEAL    2/ 

Mistress  Betty's  bright  face  paled  a  little 
and  her  eyes  clouded.  "Where  go  we,  uncle?  " 
she  asked  quickly. 

"Of  that  you  shall  know  hereafter,"  he  an 
swered  shortly,  his  own  brow  frowning  slightly; 
"  it  is  enough  that  you  attend  a  noble  lady  by 
order  of  the  privy  seal. " 

Mistress  Betty  bit  her  lips,  casting  down 
her  eyes,  a  sudden  chagrin  in  her  manner. 
Young  as  she  was,  she  had  no  love  of  orders 
that  were  unexplained,  and  Master  Raby,  seeing 
her  expression,  addressed  her  with  a  pleasant 
courtesy. 

"I  fear  your  service  maybe  sad,  mistress," 
he  said  gravely,  "but,  happily  for  you,  it  is  like 
to  be  a  short  one,  if  rumor  saith  the  truth." 

"  Is  it  so,  indeed  ?  "  exclaimed  Raleigh,  a 
sorrowful  surprise  in  his  kindly  face.  "  I  heard 
it  not,  ere  now ;  "  for  he  understood  the  refer 
ence,  although  Betty  did  not. 

"True  enough,  I  fear  me,"  Raby  answered, 
"although  we  know  it  not  at  Greenwich." 

"How  goes  it  there?"  asked  Sir  William, 
anxiously. 

"Gay,  marvellously  gay,"  his  guest  replied, 
"though  the  king's  grace  has  been  troubled 
with  the  swelling  in  his  leg  again." 

At  this  Sir  William  shook  his  head. 


28  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"And  no  boy  yet,"  he  said;  "pray  Heaven 
this  realm  may  see  a  prince  before  his  highness 
yields  further  to  these  troubles,  and  so  leaves 
us  with  our  swords  at  each  other's  throats!" 

"What  other  tidings?"  asked  Raleigh, 
eagerly. 

"None  of  late  importance,"  Raby  answered. 
"  Fox  has  gone  to  talk  to  the  Lutheran  princes 
against  the  French  intrigues;  Master  Latimer 
is  made  Bishop  of  Worcester;  the  parliament 
has  passed  the  vagrant  act,  and  the  universities 
will  pay  no  more  tenths  and  first  fruits;  there 
has  been  a  great  mask  at  Greenwich  and  a 
wizard  has  come  to  London  who  promises  to 
show  the  king  his  own  successor,  but  his  grace 
will  none  of  him." 

"  It  may  be  that  he  dreads  to  inquire  into  so 
grave  a  matter,"  suggested  Lady  Carew. 

"I  know  not,  madam,"  answered  Raby, 
smiling;  "it  is  a  much  mooted  question,  even 
now  that  the  little  princess  is  proclaimed." 

"  Ay,  but  we  have  had  already  enough  of 
such  fancies,"  retorted  Carew,  stoutly;  "we 
have  not  forgot  the  Oxford  conjurer,  nor  the 
prophecy  that  he  made  whereby  he  declared 
that  none  of  '  the  Cadwallader  blood  '  should 
reign  long,  and  would  even  have  raised  an  heir 
to  Lancaster  from  the  bloody  field  of  Tewkes- 


MESSENGER  FROM  MY  LORD  PRIVY  SEAL     29 

bury.  All  such  matters  be  but  the  beginning 
of  treason ; "  and  the  good  baron  turned  to  his 
posset  in  open  disgust  of  the  sorcerer's  arts. 

Far  other  thoughts  ran  in  the  mind  of  his 
elder  guest;  Raleigh  sat  looking  at  the  fire 
with  much  perplexity  upon  his  face. 

"Latimer  a  bishop!"  he  said,  at  last;  "I 
do  remember  the  time  when  they  would  have 
burnt  him  but  for  my  lord  cardinal;  strange, 
too,  that  Wolsey's  hand  should  have  plucked 
such  a  fagot  from  the  fire.  Verily,  these  are 
days  when  swift  changes  come  upon  this 
realm." 


CHAPTER    III 

MISTRESS    BETTY   GOES    OUT    INTO    THE  WORLD 

UNDER  a  gray  sky  and  over  moors,  brown 
with  the  frost,  rode  Mistress  Betty  Carew  upon 
her  first  journey  into  the  great  world.  She 
and  her  uncle  were  escorted  by  Master  Raby 
and  a  few  stout  retainers,  all  being  well  armed, 
for  travellers  encountered  some  perils  upon 
those  lonely  roads.  The  young  girl,  going  out 
upon  an  unknown  errand  and  feeling  herself 
almost  a  stranger  even  to  Sir  William,  spoke 
but  little,  her  mind  being  full  of  many  thoughts 
and  fancies.  She  had  as  yet  no  intuition  of 
her  destination,  and  marvelled  not  a  little  at 
the  peremptory  summons  coming  to  one  so 
little  known  as  she  was.  Happily  for  her,  she 
had  been  bred  up  in  the  school  of  misfortune 
and  had  profited  by  its  early  and  sharp  lessons. 
Naturally  imperious  in  temper,  she  had  learned 
to  submit  to  the  inevitable,  and  accepted  this 
sudden  and  unwelcome  change  as  part  of  her 
uncertain  destiny,  knowing  that  her  poverty 
and  dependence  made  her  a  plaything  in  the 
hands  of  fate.  She  had  learned  also  in  that 


BETTY  GOES  OUT  INTO    TFIE    WORLD      31 

early  school  to  be  a  close  observer  of  men 
and  women,  and  was  not  unskilful  in  reading 
character,  although  so  young.  Therefore  she 
smiled  a  little  when  she  heard  her  uncle's 
sharp  comment  on  Simon  Raby's  groom. 

"  What  hangdog  knave  is  that  thou  hast 
there,  Raby?"  Sir  William  asked,  when  they 
were  leaving  an  inn  where  they  had  stopped 
for  a  few  moments. 

"You  mean  not  my  groom  surely,  Sir 
William?"  said  Raby,  smiling;  "an  honest 
fellow,  who  has  served  me  two  years  or  more." 

"  I  marvel  that  he  stayed  so  long  out  of 
gaol,"  Carew  answered  dryly;  "a  crop-eared 
villain,  who  will  hang  some  day  at  Tyburn." 

The  younger  man  laughed  gayly.  "  A  sorry 
prophecy,  sir,"  he  said  lightly;  "the  man  has 
served  me  faithfully,  as  far  as  I  know,  and 
seems  free  enough  of  bad  habits,  —  drinks  less, 
thieves  less,  and  quarrels  less  than  most." 

"Ay,"  retorted  Sir  William,  with  a  grim 
smile,  "he  would  not  quarrel  openly,  but  keep 
a  knife  for  your  back  at  midnight ;  I  would  give 
him  short  shrift  if  he  were  mine." 

"Verily,  I  must  look  for  another  knave," 
Raby  answered,  still  laughing.  "  I  shall 
scarce  ride  in  comfort  after  this  with  the 
fellow  at  my  heels." 


32  THE   HOUSE    OF   THE    WIZARD 

"Take  my  word  for  it,"  Carew  returned;  "I 
have  been  magistrate  and  provost  and  chief 
executioner  —  as  it  would  seem  —  here  in 
Devon,  for  all  things  are  shifted  on  my 
shoulders,  and  it  is  such-looking  rogues  as  that 
one  who  keep  the  hangman  from  forgetting 
his  trade." 

"Your  uncle  is  a  hard  judge,  Mistress 
Carew,"  Raby  remarked;  "I  should  not  wish 
to  stand  trial  at  his  hands  unless,  perchance, 
he  liked  my  face.  Here  is  my  poor  groom, 
Thaxter,  already  doomed  to  hang  for  his." 

"To  speak  truth,  he  has  an  evil  countenance, 
Master  Raby,"  she  answered  quietly,  but  with 
a  smiling  glance  at  her  uncle. 

"You  are  prejudiced  by  Sir  William," 
Raby  declared.  "  I  am  willing  to  wager  that 
the  poor  fellow  is  as  honest  as  many  with  a 
fair  exterior." 

"I  will  take  the  wager,  Raby,"  Carew  re 
marked  calmly,  "and  you  will  be  the  loser, 
therefore  make  it  not  too  heavy  on  your  purse. " 

"Fifty  pounds,  and  I  do  not  fear  to  lose," 
the  other  cried,  still  much  diverted  by  the 
matter. 

"I  am  that  much  a  gainer,"  Sir  William 
said,  "  but  I  will  pray  you  not  to  test  the  affair 
at  the  moment  by  making  him  our  guide.  I 


BETTY  GOES  OUT  INTO    THE    WORLD      33 

am  not  willing  to  trust  my  neck  and  Betty's  to 
his  mercies." 

"Mistress  Carew  shall  take  no  risks,"  Raby 
replied;  "you  and  I  will  settle  the  wager 
when  we  are  not  in  so  fair  company.  Indeed, 
I  trust  that  we  shall  make  this  journey  safely 
and  with  expedition,  since  my  lord  privy  seal 
was  urgent  that  the  matter  should  be  speedily 
accomplished." 

"Will  they  be  ready  for  our  reception? 
Has  yonder  lady  been  notified,  or  is  this  the 
act  of  Cromwell  only?  "  Carew  asked  gravely. 

Raby  shook  his  head.  "I  know  not,"  he 
answered.  "  I  am  but  the  bearer  of  certain 
instructions,  but  I  fear  that  the  —  that  her 
grace  is  little  consulted  in  the  affair." 

Carew  did  not  reply,  but  seemed  to  muse 
over  some  grave  subject,  for  his  face  became 
almost  stern  in  its  repose;  and  Raby,  seeing 
his  preoccupation,  took  his  place  at  Mistress 
Betty's  bridle,  guiding  her  horse  and  talking 
lightly  and  pleasantly  of  those  matters  that  he 
thought  would  amuse  his  young  companion. 
He  had  been  but  lately  at  the  court,  and  told 
her  of  the  jousts  at  Greenwich,  when  the 
knights  tilted  before  Queen  Anne  Boleyn. 

"It  was  a  beautiful  sight,"  he  said;  "they 
wore  white  velvet,  embroidered  in  silver,  and 
3 


34  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

the  lists  were  surrounded  by  the  gayest  ladies 
of  the  court ;  there  was  a  sheen  of  gold  bro 
cade,  and  jewels;  it  was  a  scene  worth  seeing, 
and  'twill  be  remembered  long  by  those  who 
saw  it." 

"And  the  queen?"  Betty  asked,  with  a 
little  hesitation,  "  is  the  queen  as  beautiful  as 
they  say  ? " 

"  She  was  thought  to  be  the  most  beautiful 
woman  at  court  when  she  was  Marchioness  of 
Pembroke,"  Raby  answered;  "and  she  is  still 
fair  to  look  upon,  though  I  do  think  that  there 
are  others  more  lovely.  I  doubt  not  she  would 
call  it  treason  did  she  hear  me  say  it,"  he 
added,  smiling. 

"I  should  like  to  see  her,"  Mistress  Carew 
said  thoughtfully. 

"  You  have  no  need  to  seek  so  far  to  find  a 
fairer  face,"  Raby  answered,  with  the  gallantry 
of  a  courtier. 

And  so  they  rode  on,  talking  in  a  friendly 
way  until  they  seemed  no  longer  strangers, 
and  were  but  little  interrupted  by  Sir  William, 
who  was  wrapped  in  his  own  thoughts,  which 
were  apparently  not  altogether  pleasant  ones. 
Thus  the  three  made  the  journey  together, 
and  still  Betty  knew  nothing  of  her  destina 
tion,  though  she  marvelled  more  and  more  as 


BETTY  GOES  OUT  INTO    THE    WORLD      35 

the  way  lengthened,  and  they  stopped  at  first 
one  tavern  and  then  another.  But  in  those 
days  young  girls  were  little  considered  and 
were  expected  to  submit,  with  implicit  obedi 
ence,  to  the  guidance  of  their  elders.  More 
than  once  Betty  thought  that  she  was  likely  to 
come  to  her  journey's  end  without  knowing 
her  errand,  but  it  was  not  to  be  so.  The  last 
day  of  her  travels  brought  her  enlightenment. 
Toward  evening,  when  they  were  riding  along 
at  an  even  gait  and  had  just  passed  through  a 
small  village,  Master  Raby  fell  back,  leaving 
uncle  and  niece  alone,  as  though  he  gave  them 
opportunity  for  a  last  talk  together,  and  Sir 
William,  almost  at  once,  availed  himself 
of  it. 

"Fair  niece,"  he  said,  "you  are  truly  a  jewel 
among  women,  for  you  have  not  yet  asked  me 
a  question.  Did  your  aunt  tell  you  whither 
you  were  bound  ?  " 

"Nay,  uncle,"  Mistress  Betty  answered 
quietly,  "but  I  remember  my  cause  for 
gratitude  and  am  willing  to  do  your  bidding, 
though  I  should  like  to  know  where  we  are 
going." 

Carew  smiled.  "There  spoke  the  woman," 
he  said,  "yet  I  fear  you  will  be  little  pleased; 
it  is  no  lively  errand  for  a  girl.  We  are  rid- 


36  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

ing  to  Kimbolton,  where  they  have  but  lately 
taken  the  princess  dowager. " 

"What,  sir,  do  I  go  to  the  queen?"  cried 
Betty,  in  amazement. 

"Mind  thy  tongue,  young  mistress,"  Carew 
said  sharply;  "not  queen,  but  princess 
dowager." 

"You  mean  Queen  Catherine,  uncle,"  Betty 
retorted,  some  excitement  in  her  voice;  "I 
cannot  think  of  her  as  less  than  the  queen." 

"Then  must  you  learn  to  speedily,"  Sir 
William  said,  "for  you  are  sent  down  to  Kim 
bolton  by  my  lord  privy  seal,  and  you  must  not 
transgress  the  king's  commandment  in  this 
matter,  whereby  -<VQ  are  bidden  to  hold  this 
lady  as  only  the  widow  of  Prince  Arthur." 

"I  cannot  see  how  that  may  be,"  the  young 
girl  cried;  "she  was  surely  the  king's  wife, 
and  there  be  many  who  declare  that  there  is 
no  divorcement." 

"But  ye  are  not  of  them,  wench,"  her  uncle 
said  sternly;  "his  grace  of  Canterbury  hath 
declared  the  king's  first  marriage  null,  and  we 
have  naught  to  do  with  the  opinions  of  the 
Bishop  of  Rome,  albeit  this  lady  clings  to  his 
judgment  and  will  none  of  the  king's." 

"  Uncle,  do  you  believe  that  she  is  fairly 
used  ? "  asked  Mistress  Betty,  with  the  fearful 


BETTY  GOES  OUT  INTO    THE    WORLD      37 

honesty  of  youth;  "think  you  they  had  a  right 
to  treat  the  daughter  of  a  king  with  such 
contumely? " 

"  'T  is  not  for  you  to  ask,  or  for  me  to 
answer,  niece,"  Sir  William  answered  sharply; 
"  it  is  done,  and  the  Act  of  the  Succession 
hath  set  aside  the  Lady  Mary.  Mind,  there 
fore,  that  you  fall  into  no  error  in  these 
matters,  but  do  your  duty,  leaving  these  ques 
tions  to  the  bishops  and  the  king's  grace." 

"But  wherefore  do  they  send  me  thither?" 
she  asked,  her  voice  betraying  her  discontent; 
"  what  need  is  there  for  me?  " 

"Now  listen  well  to  me,  Betty,"  her  uncle 
said  sternly;  "you  are  young  to  be  sent  on 
such  an  errand.  The  princess  has  been  sur 
rounded  only  with  her  own  creatures,  there  has 
been  some  plotting,  and  my  lord  privy  seal 
would  have  one  woman  there  who,  being  not  of 
it,  will  be  a  check  upon  them;  and  he  sent  to 
me,  because  he  puts  some  confidence  in  me, 
and  was  recommended,  too,  by  our  kinsman, 
the  master  of  horse,  Sir  Nicholas  Carew. " 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence,  and  then 
Betty  spoke  with  passionate  feeling. 

"  See  you  not,  uncle,  that  they  would  make  a 
spy  of  me  ?  "  she  cried  ;  "  how  can  you  bear  that 
this  should  be?  Surely  you  are  too  honorable 


38  THE   HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

to  see  your  niece  sent  to  watch  and  betray  a 
noble  and  an  injured  princess ! " 

"Hark  ye,  fair  niece!"  said  Sir  William,  in 
a  low  tone,  "  I  am  not  without  sympathy  for 
yonder  great  lady ;  she  has  been  hardly  used, 
'though  it  is  my  peril  to  say  so,  and  if  you  go 
not  to  her,  my  lord  privy  seal  will  surely  send 
another  who  may,  being  tempted,  work  some 
deep  mischief  to  her.  See  ye  not  how  griev 
ously  an  enemy  might  hurt  her?  " 

"I  see,  I  see,"  Betty  answered,  "yet  I  can 
never  play  the  part  of  a  spy ! " 

"Nor  did  I  ask  you,  wench,"  Carew  an 
swered  grimly.  "  I  would  wring  your  neck 
with  my  own  hand,  thought  I  you  were  so 
mean  a  traitress.  But  remember  that  you  owe 
allegiance  to  the  king's  grace  and  you  cannot 
break  it  without  as  great  dishonor.  Let  not 
soft  words  prevail  with  you.  It  is  commonly 
reported  that  this  poor  lady  is  plotting  mis 
chief  with  the  Emperor  of  Germany  and  the 
Bishop  of  Rome.  Not  that  I  greatly  blame 
her,  Heaven  knows,  but  it  is  a  damnable 
treason  against  this  realm  and  is  like  to  pull 
us  all  by  the  pates  if  it  succeeds.  Meddle  not 
with  it,  bear  no  secret  messages,  open  no 
barred  doors,  steal  no  keys,  though  the  lack  of 
them  may  lay  a  royal  head  upon  the  block. 


BETTY  GOES  OUT  INTO    THE   WORLD      39 

Remember  your  allegiance,  do  your  duty  and 
leave  the  rest  to  wiser  brains  than  yours." 

"  That  will  I  promise  to  do  right  cheerfully," 
Betty  answered,  "but  never  could  I  betray  a 
woman  in  so  sad  a  case." 

"It  is  well,"  Sir  William  said  soberly;  "do 
your  duty  and  mind  well  your  tongue,  for  it 
may  be  that  there  will  be  some  who  would 
right  willingly  set  a  snare  for  you  to  bring  you 
to  disaster  and  work  my  downfall.  I  know 
not  how  close  an  eye  Cromwell  hath  upon  me, 
nor  how  he  means  to  try  me  withal.  He  is  a 
cat  who  plays  with  many  mice,  and  his  trap  is 
the  Tower." 

"Hast  thou  then  so  many  enemies,  uncle?" 
Betty  asked,  in  some  wonder. 

"Enough  and  to  spare,  fair  niece,"  he  an 
swered;  "and  there  is  much  malice  in  a  court: 
it  crawleth,  like  the  serpent,  on  its  belly,  and 
there  is  war  between  it  and  the  seed  of  woman, 
for  it  ever  stings  the  heel  of  him  who  would 
live  honestly.  It  was  such  malice  that  pulled 
down  my  lord  cardinal.  But  enough;  you 
know  your  duty,  and  yonder  is  Kimbolton. " 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE    QUEEN    AT    KIMBOLTON 

THE  shadows  of  evening  were  gathering  fast 
when  the  little  party  halted  at  the  gates  of 
Kimbolton.  There  was  much  parley,  and  the 
royal  warrant  was  produced  before  the  visitors 
were  admitted,  the  delay  and  formality  im 
pressing  Betty  with  the  feeling  of  entering  a 
prison;  and  she  followed  her  uncle  reluctantly 
across  the  courtyard,  where  a  few  torches  flared 
in  the  gloom.  No  womanish  qualms,  however, 
oppressed  Carew,  and  he  walked  boldly  for 
ward,  leaving  Raby  to  attend  upon  his  niece, 
an  office  which  the  younger  man  eagerly 
accepted ;  indeed,  he  had  already  won  the  good 
opinion  of  Mistress  Betty  by  his  courtly  gal 
lantry  upon  the  road.  Bred  in  the  country 
and  under  unfortunate  auspices,  she  was  little 
accustomed  to  the  attendance  of  a  courtier, 
and  she  noted  young  Master  Raby's  courtesy 
and  graceful  tact  with  some  secret  admiration, 
though  she  held  her  head  high  and  was,  as 
usual,  chary  of  her  smiles,  perhaps,  because  — 
like  every  beauty  —  she  knew  their  value. 


THE  QUEEN  AT  KIMBOLTON  41 

Unfavorably  impressed  both  with  the  place 
and  with  the  lack  of  state  and  hospitality,  she 
shrank  back  a  little,  and  so  it  was  that  she  and 
her  cavalier  were  late  in  entering  the  hall,  and 
found  Sir  William  already  in  deep  converse 
with  the  castellan,  Sir  Edmund  Bedingfield. 
Neither  of  these  worthies  heeded  the  young 
people,  scarcely  noting  their  entrance,  but 
stood  talking  and  perusing  a  letter,  no  doubt 
the  instructions  of  my  lord  privy  seal.  Mis 
tress  Betty  and  Raby  drew  near  to  the  fire  in 
the  great  chimney,  a  pile  of  logs  of  such 
length  that  one  end  might  burn  while  the 
other  was  cold,  but  giving  little  warmth,  for 
the  opening  above  was  of  such  huge  dimensions 
that  gusts  of  cold  air  came  down  with  greater 
alacrity  than  the  sparks  and  smoke  went  up. 
There  was  a  lack  of  due  attendance,  a  cheerless 
and  gloomy  aspect  that  increased  the  young 
girl's  unfavorable  impression,  and  she  shivered 
a  little,  bending  over  the  fire  and  holding  out 
her  hands  to  the  blaze. 

"A  dull  place,"  said  Simon  Raby,  in  a  low 
tone;  "a  dull  place  for  an  uncrowned  queen." 

"  Poor  lady !  "  murmured  Betty,  forgetful  of 
her  uncle's  recent  instructions,  "'tis  enough 
to  break  her  heart." 

"I  never  knew  her,"  Raby   answered.     "I 


42  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

was  away  in  France  with  Sir  John  Wallop 
until  the  queen  that  now  is  was  crowned,  but 
they  do  tell  me  that  this  lady  is  too  strong  and 
resolute  a  woman  to  greatly  mourn  the  loss 
of  state  or  earthly  glory;  but  'tis  awful  to 
consign  a  princess  to  so  mean  a  case  as 
this." 

Betty,  remembering  now  the  commands  that 
were  laid  upon  her,  turned  the  subject  without 
an  open  expression  of  her  own  feeling  on  this 
point. 

"You  were  in  France?"  she  said;  "'tis 
there  my  cousin  Peter  is ;  he  ran  away,  you 
know,  and  coming  to  Paris,  was  taken  into  the 
household  of  Sir  John  Wallop." 

"I  know  him,"  her  companion  answered, 
smiling;  "a  gay  and  fiery  gallant,  who  is  like 
to  make  a  brave  record  for  Mohun's  Ottery. " 

At  this  moment  they  were  interrupted  by 
Bedingfield,  who,  turning  from  Sir  William, 
for  the  first  time  cast  a  glance  in  Betty's 
direction. 

"Is  this  the  maid?"  he  asked. 

"Come  hither,  niece,"  Carew  said,  "and 
make  your  curtsy  to  Sir  Edmund;  you  are 
now  committed  to  his  charge  to  be  introduced 
to  the  princess  dowager." 

"Who  is  little  likely  to  be  pleased  thereat," 


43 

remarked  Bedingfield,  with  a  frankness  which 
yet  farther  chilled  Betty's  heart.  "I  bid  you 
welcome,  mistress,"  he  added  dryly;  "it  is  a 
sorry  place  for  a  young  maid  at  best,  and  of 
late  her  highness  has  been  ailing  and  in  no 
plight  to  crave  gay  attendance." 

"Discourage  her  no  more,  Bedingfield,"  Sir 
William  remarked;  "the  wench  is  sufficiently 
cast  down  at  the  prospect,  without  your  croak 
ing  talk." 

"  It  mends  not  a  matter  to  dress  it  in  gay 
colors, "  Bedingfield  retorted  briefly.  "Come, 
young  mistress,  follow  me  to  the  princess; 
there  is  no  place  to  bestow  you  until  I  know 
her  wishes,  and  't  is  best  to  cut  a  long  matter 
short." 

"  I  would  make  some  changes  in  my  gar 
ments,"  Mistress  Betty  said  quietly,  "before  I 
go  to  —  to  her  grace." 

"There  is  no  need,"  Sir  Edmund  replied, 
with  evident  impatience  to  have  an  unpleasant 
task  accomplished;  "you  may  lay  aside  your 
cloak  in  the  antechamber  while  I  learn  her 
highness's  wishes  in  the  matter,  and  so  end  it." 

Without  more  words,  he  turned  to  the  stair 
case  and  began  the  ascent,  and  after  one  glance 
at  her  uncle  to  ascertain  his  wishes,  Betty  fol 
lowed  with  a  heavy  heart.  She  was  not  with- 


44 

out  a  little  thrill  of  excitement  at  the  thought 
of  seeing  this  unhappy  queen,  and  there  was, 
too,  all  a  young  girl's  curiosity  and  eagerness 
for  adventure,  but  she  dreaded  a  cold  recep 
tion,  knowing  so  well  how  unwelcome  she  was 
likely  to  be,  sent,  as  she  was,  by  one  whom 
the  poor  woman  must  regard  as  her  greatest 
enemy.  So  in  a  tumult  of  contrary  emotions 
Mistress  Betty  walked  down  the  gloomy,  ill- 
lighted  corridor,  behind  the  castellan,  mentally 
contrasting  this  dull  place  with  Mohun's 
Ottery.  They  were  not  to  gain  admittance 
without  some  parley;  the  queen  allowed  no 
intercourse  with  the  royal  officers  stationed 
about  her  by  the  king.  She  lived  among  her 
own  people,  and  Bedingfield  had  to  crave  per 
mission  to  speak  with  her.  Finally,  a  page 
admitted  them  into  a  small  anteroom,  where 
Betty  was  told  to  wait  and  lay  aside  her 
mantle.  There  was  a  closed  door  opposite  to 
the  one  at  which  they  had  entered,  and  from 
behind  it  came  the  sound  of  voices  engaged  in 
conversation,  which  was  hushed  as  Bedingfield 
opened  the  door  and  passed  through.  Betty 
knew  that  he  was  going  into  the  presence  of 
the  queen,  and  she  stood  listening  with  anxiety. 
She  heard  a  woman's  voice  address  him  at 
once;  the  cold  dignity  of  the  tone  and  the 


THE  QUEEN  AT  KIMBOLTON  45 

slightly  foreign  accent  made  her  sure  of  the 
identity  of  the  speaker. 

"What  tidings,  Sir  Edmund?"  she  asked; 
"my  maids  tell  me  there  is  a  stir  below,  and 
truly  we  long  for  any  change ;  ay,  almost  wel 
come  evil  rather  than  the  dull  monotony  of 
suspense." 

"No  news,  madam,"  replied  Bedingfield; 
"only  a  messenger  from  my  lord  privy  seal 
and  —  " 

"  Alack,  alack !  "  cried  Catherine,  hastily, 
"  I  did  not  speak  sooth;  news  from  that  quarter 
is  ill  news  indeed.  If  it  had  been  from  the 
king's  highness  —  but  that  comes  no  more  to 
me." 

"In  a  way  it  is,  madam,"  Sir  Edmund  an 
swered;  "the  king's  grace  hath  sent  another 
maid  to  attend  upon  your  highness." 

"Another  maid!"  the  queen  exclaimed,  in 
atone  of  irony;  "you  mock  me,  sir;  'tis  not 
possible  that  so  great  state  is  allowed  the 
Queen  of  England  ?  Four  maids !  Such  a 
train  will  be  a  grievous  charge  upon  you." 

"  Nay,  madam,  I  do  beseech  you,  lay  not 
the  blame  of  your  poor  attendance  upon  me," 
Bedingfield  said,  with  some  feeling;  "I  may 
not  exceed  my  orders." 

"Your   orders,"    said    the   queen,    bitterly; 


46  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

"who  gave  them  to  you,  man,  but  that  tailor's 
son,  mine  enemy?  " 

"  Nay,  madam ;  you  do  wrong  my  lord  privy 
seal,"  Bedingfield  returned;  "he  is  but  the 
mouthpiece  of  the  king's  grace." 

"It  maybe,  and  it  should  not  be,"  Cather 
ine  said  sadly;  "yet  the  time  may  come  when 
even  Cromwell  will  regret  it.  I  do  remember 
that  my  lord  cardinal  wrought  against  me  to 
his  own  downfall,  and  died  loving  me,  as  I 
believe,  better  than  his  creature,  who  still 
wears  a  paper  crown." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  and  then  Bed 
ingfield  spoke  abruptly. 

"I  would  know  your  highness's  pleasure  in 
regard  to  the  maid  who  waits  without." 

"  The  maid !  —  what  maid  ?  "  exclaimed  Cath 
erine,  as  if  awakened  from  a  dream;  "oh,  ay, 
I  do  remember!  Why,  send  her  to  me,  sir;  I 
fear  her  not,  even  though  she  be  a  spy  of  my 
lord  privy  seal.  If  she  has  a  woman's  heart, 
doubtless  it  will  be  moved  to  see  her  queen 
brought  to  so  low  estate;  and  if  she  has  no 
heart,  then  will  I  rejoice  that  mine  enemies 
may  have  a  true  report  of  how  chastely  and 
honorably  the  Queen  of  England  bears  herself 
under  the  deepest  injury  that  a  woman  and  a 
wife  can  suffer." 


THE   QUEEN  AT  KIMBOLTON'  47 

"Do  I  understand  that  your  grace  will  see 
the  maid  to-night?  "  Bedingfield  asked  dryly. 

"When  it  be  your  pleasure,  sir,"  the 
queen  answered  coldly;  "a  prisoner  hath 
no  choice." 

"  Nay,  madam,"  Bedingfield  began  haughtily, 

((    T   )» 

"Send  her,  sir,"  exclaimed  the  queen, 
sharply;  "I  would  see  her  now!  I  am  weary, 
and  words  mend  not  my  case;  let  us  so  end 
the  matter." 

"As  you  will,  madam,"  the  castellan  replied; 
"I  do  but  my  duty." 

"I  doubt  it  not,  good  Bedingfield,"  she  an 
swered  with  sad  courtesy,  "  but  I  have  known 
duty  more  graciously  done.  Howbeit,  send 
me  the  maid ;  I  would  see  what  sort  of  a 
creature  my  Lord  Cromwell  sends  to  watch 
his  queen." 

"Your  grace  mistakes  the  matter,"  Sir 
Edmund  said  awkwardly;  "this  is  a  well-bred 
maiden,  the  niece  of  a  gallant  gentleman  of 
Devon,  Sir  William  Carew. " 

"Carew?  "  repeated  the  queen,  thoughtfully. 
"I  should  know  the  name,  kindred  of  the 
master  of  horse,  as  I  remember,  and  he  is  truly 
a  noble  soldier.  Fate  and  Cromwell  are  pro 
pitious;  I  looked  for  worse.  Let  there  be  no 


48  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

more  delay,  sir;  my  heart  fluttereth  at  the 
thought  of  four  female  attendants,"  she  added, 
with  a  touch  of  irony. 

Having  overheard  all  this  talk,  so  little 
calculated  to  allay  her  misgivings,  Betty  waited 
for  Bedingfield's  summons  with  increased 
agitation.  When  he  came  to  the  door  and 
beckoned  to  her  to  advance,  she  did  so  with 
great  reluctance;  although  never  a  timid  girl, 
she  felt  deeply  embarrassed  as  she  entered  the 
room. beyond,  and  found  herself  in  the  presence 
of  Catherine  of  Arragon.  Her  eyes  dazzled 
by  the  greater  illumination,  she  was,  at  first, 
only  conscious  that  she  stood  in  a  large  room 
where  there  was  a  bright  fire  burning  on  the 
hearth,  and  before  it  several  figures.  She 
made  her  curtsy  almost  mechanically,  and  it 
was  a  moment  before  she  collected  her  thoughts, 
and  then  she  found  that  the  queen  was  address 
ing  her. 

"I  bid  you  welcome,  maiden,"  Catherine 
said  not  unkindly.  "  Sir  Edmund  tells  me 
that  you  are  sent  by  my  lord  privy  seal,  where 
by  I  know  you  to  be  chosen  rather  to  his  liking 
than  my  own  comfort ;  but  God  forbid  that  I 
should  misjudge  so  young  a  heart  as  thine ! 
What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"Betty  Carew,"  was  the  answer,   in   a  low 


THE   QUEEN  AT  KIMBOLTON  49 

tone,  "the  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Carevv  of 
Devon. " 

"Thomas  Carew,"  repeated  the  queen,  with 
sudden  recollection.  "Your  mother  was  the 
daughter  of  Lord  Penrith;  I  knew  her  well, 
and  I  do  now  recall  that  she  commended  her 
child  to  my  care,  when  I  was  little  able  to  care 
for  any  one;  a  falling  tree  doth  crush  the 
flower  at  its  root.  Blessed  Virgin,  how  strange 
is  destiny!  That  very  child  sent  down  to 
watch  her  royal  mistress ! " 

Catherine  spoke  in  a  low  tone,  more  to  her 
self  than  to  those  about  her,  and  sat  for  a  few 
moments  lost  in  revery.  She  was  seated  in  a 
great  chair  before  the  hearth,  and  there  was 
much  calm  dignity  and  sadness  in  her  whole 
aspect,  but  she  was  both  unlovely  and  unat 
tractive;  a  stout  woman  with  a  pale,  large- 
featured  face  which  ill  health  and  trouble  had 
aged  before  her  time.  Her  expression  was 
austere,  and  there  were  traces  of  deep  sorrow 
and  anxiety  in  the  furrows  that  already  marked 
her  brow  and  the  deep  purple  shadows  under  her 
dark  eyes.  Her  gown  was  of  black  velvet,  with 
large,  flowing  sleeves  over  small,  straight  ones, 
which  had  lace  ruffles  over  the  hands.  On  her 
head  was  a  high,  crownlike,  five-cornered  cap 
edged  with  jewels,  two  pieces  falling  down 
4 


50  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

from  it  over  the  ears,  and  at  the  back  was  fas 
tened  the  Spanish  mantilla,  its  graceful  folds 
draping  her  shoulders  and  showing  her  face  in 
strong  relief  against  the  black  background. 
Behind  her  chair  were  grouped  three  ladies-in- 
waiting,  and  all  bent  curious  glances  on  the 
young  stranger.  Mistress  Betty's  blooming 
youth  and  brilliantly  colored  beauty  had  never 
shown  to  a  more  dazzling  advantage  than  it  did 
by  contrast  now,  and  Catherine  herself,  look 
ing  up  from  her  revery,  observed  it  and  smiled 
sadly. 

"Alas!"  she  said,  "poor  maid,  this  place  is 
like  to  be  no  better  than  a  tomb  to  one  so 
young,  albeit  safer  for  your  soul's  grace  now 
than  Greenwich.  I  have  no  entertainment,  no 
masks,  no  dances  to  break  the  cold  monotony. 
You  may  pray  here,  weep  here,  die  here,  but 
verily,  you  will  have  no  revelry.  If  you  but 
remember  to  be  a  woman,  and  bear  a  woman's 
heart  in  your  breast,  as  did  your  mother,  you 
will  find  me  no  unkind  mistress  to  you,  though, 
God  knows,  an  impoverished  one.  Wilt  serve 
me  on  such  terms  as  these? " 

"  Madam,  I  will  do  my  duty,  and  I  can  no 
more,"  Betty  answered  in  a  low  tone,  divided 
between  her  pity  and  her  uncle's  instructions. 

The  queen  smiled  ironically.     "  Well  tutored 


THE    QUEEN  AT  KIMBOLTON  51 

in  her  '  duty,'  doubtless,"  she  said,  turning  to 
her  maids;  "a  cautious  answer,  aptly  mouthed. 
But,  pshaw  !  I  grow  a  weak  woman  to  be  angered 
v/ith  a  baby.  The  wench  is  tired,  I  know; 
these  men  take  no  thought  for  a  woman's 
strength,  and  doubtless  she  has  ridden  long  and 
far.  Take  her  away  and  find  some  place  to 
bestow  her,  and  to-morrow  we  will  give  some 
employment  to  her.  Can  you  sing,  Mistress 
Carew?"  she  added  to  Betty. 

"  I  can  both  sing  and  play  upon  the  harp, 
madam,"  the  young  girl  answered  gravely,  for 
Catherine's  words  offended  her,  even  though 
she  felt  the  justice  of  the  queen's  suspicions. 

"A  musician,"  said  Catherine,  more  gra 
ciously;  "now  am  I  reconciled.  Like  Saul, 
my  soul  finds  consolation  in  music;  it  seems 
my  lord  privy  seal  would  send  me  a  female 
David!  Well,  well,  leave  me,  maiden;  I  am 
weary,  and  I  would  not  have  you  think  your 
queen  a  sour  and  uncharitable  woman  with  no 
lenient  word  for  youth.  Go  eat  and  sleep,  and 
to-morrow  we  will  be  merry." 


CHAPTER   V 

THE    GENTLEMAN    IN    THE    RUSSET    CLOAK 

QUEEN  CATHERINE'S  prediction  that  life  at 
Kimbolton  would  be  gloomy  for  a  young  girl, 
seemed  likely  to  be  fulfilled.  Happily,  for 
Mistress  Betty's  comfort,  she  had  already 
undergone  such  discipline  in  both  poverty  and 
solitude  that  she  was  better  fitted  to  endure 
restraint  and  depressing  surroundings  than 
others  of  her  years.  Sir  William  Carew  and 
Master  Raby  bade  her  farewell  the  morning 
after  her  arrival,  and  from  that  time  she  en 
countered  no  very  friendly  treatment,  except 
from  Sir  Edmund  Bedingfield.  The  queen 
was  never  unkind,  but  she  looked  upon  Betty 
with  suspicion,  and  a  settled  conviction  existed 
in  her  mind  that  the  young  girl  was  a  spy  of 
my  lord  privy  seal,  while  her  three  attendants, 
all  women  who  were  devoted  to  her  person, 
resented  still  more  intensely  the  presence  of 
the  new  lady-in-waiting.  At  the  same  time, 
Betty's  youth,  beauty,  and  many  attractions 
won  upon  them,  in  spite  of  themselves,  and 
they  could  not  be  harsh  or  malicious  to  so 


THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  THE  RUSSET  CLOAK   53 

charming  a  creature.  After  the  first  week  or 
two  they  relaxed  a  little  in  their  manner  toward 
her,  and  gradually  she  won  her  own  place  in 
the  little  household,  though  she  was  never 
trusted  in  any  confidential  matter;  and  often, 
at  her  approach,  conversation  was  hushed  or 
writing  materials  put  aside,  and  an  artificial 
manner  assumed,  as  before  a  stranger.  In 
tensely  as  Betty  resented  the  distrust  and 
coldness,  she  was  not  without  a  feeling  of 
thankfulness  that  her  sympathies  would  never 
be  appealed  to,  that  they  seemed  to  have  no 
wish  to  work  upon  her  for  any  of  their  secret 
purposes.  That  there  was  much  scheming 
she  could  not  doubt  from  many  little  indica 
tions,  and  from  occasional  passages  in  the  con 
versation,  she  learned  that  Catherine  was  still 
industriously  employed  in  appealing  both  to 
the  Emperor  Charles  and  to  the  new  pope.  To 
all  these  matters  Betty  tried  to  close  her  eyes 
and  ears,  and  indeed  it  seemed  to  her  that  it 
could  not  last  long ;  it  required  no  very  obser 
vant  eye  to  see  that  the  queen  was  suffering 
from  some  malady  even  more  dangerous  than 
grief  and  mortification.  There  were  many 
days  when  the  royal  sufferer  never  left  her  bed, 
and  at  such  times  she  seemed  to  find  genuine 
consolation  in  Betty's  harp  and  her  clear, 


54  THE  HOUSE    OF  THE    WIZARD 

sweet  voice.  The  young  girl,  moved  by  deep 
pity  for  the  injured  queen,  was  ever  ready  to 
give  her  the  comfort  of  her  music,  and  so, 
little  by  little,  she  gained  a  place  in  Cathe 
rine's  regard,  though  herself  chilled  and  some 
times  repulsed  by  the  coldness  and  suspicious 
austerity  of  the  Castilian  princess.  Just,  vir 
tuous,  and  religious,  Catherine  did  not  also 
possess  the  attraction  of  sweet  and  gracious 
manners,  and  her  natural  austerity  had  been 
increased  by  the  usage  she  had  received  in 
England.  She  was  devout  in  the  observance 
of  her  religion,  rising  at  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning  for  prayers,  and  fasting  with  rigid 
exactness.  Beneath  her  robes  she  had  always 
worn  the  habit  of  a  nun  of  the  order  of  Saint 
Francis,  and  she  held  the  vanities  of  the  world 
in  contempt,  even  while  she  contended  for  her 
earthly  honors.  Heavily  oppressed  by  her  sor 
rows  and  deeply  distressed  for  the  future  of  her 
daughter,  the  unhappy  queen  had  neither  leis 
ure  nor  inclination  to  win  the  affection  of  the 
young  attendant  so  unceremoniously  thrust  upon 
her.  So  it  was  that  Mistress  Betty  stood  as  one 
apart,  and  watched  the  sad  little  drama  to  its 
close  without  feeling  herself  one  of  the  actors. 
Catherine  held  a  little  court  each  day,  unless 
her  health  prevented  it,  many  visitors  coming 


THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  THE  RUSSET  CLOAK   55 

and  going  at  Kimbolton  in  spite  of  the  surveil 
lance  of  the  royal  officers.  Although  he  feared 
her  influence,  the  king  had  never  isolated  her; 
he  either  respected  her  too  much,  or  hesitated 
because  of  the  popular  feeling  in  her  favor, 
and  the  attitude  of  the  foreign  princes.  She 
was  in  the  hands  of  the  officers  of  the  crown, 
but  they  dared  not  treat  her  as  a  prisoner,  and 
the  sympathy  of  a  large  portion  of  the  kingdom 
showed  itself,  more  or  less  openly,  in  many 
ways.  Yet  life  at  Kimbolton  was  gloomy 
enough,  and  the  queen  being  almost  constantly 
indisposed,  her  maids  had  small  opportunities 
for  out-of-door  exercises  and  none  for  sports. 
Their  greatest  entertainment  was  to  embroider 
in  the  evenings,  gathered  about  the  invalid's 
chair,  or  to  play  cards,  —  a  game  in  which  the 
queen  sometimes  joined,  though  it  was  whis 
pered  among  her  women  that  she  had  hated 
the  sight  of  a  card  since  she  had  played  with 
Anne  Boleyn  at  Greenwich.  Although  Betty 
felt  herself  an  object  of  indifference  to  the 
little  circle,  she  was  more  noticed  and  com 
mented  upon  than  she  was  aware.  The  fresh 
beauty  of  the  young  girl  was  often  the  subject 
of  conversation,  when  her  back  was  turned; 
even  the  queen  observing  it  and  speaking  of 
Betty's  many  charms. 


56  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"A  fair  face,"  she  said  to  her  attendants, 
"and  a  soft  voice;  'tis  a  pity  if  both  are 
false." 

"I  cannot  think  so,  madam,"  one  of  the 
older  women  replied;  "the  child  has  a  candid 
eye  and  an  upright  conduct  that  denies  all 
secret  dealings." 

"  It  should  be  so,"  Catherine  remarked  sadly. 
"  I  knew  her  mother,  a  very  honest  woman,  but 
she  is  long  dead,  and  how  shall  we  know  how 
they  bring  up  our  children  ?  Alas !  when  I 
think  of  the  Princess  Mary,  my  heart  bleeds. 
I,  too,  am  led  to  think  well  of  this  little 
maid,  yet  I  never  knew  my  lord  privy  seal 
to  send  a  lamb  into  my  fold  to  comfort  me 
withal." 

"  It  may  be  he  has  mistaken  his  choice, 
madam,"  her  woman  answered;  "there  be 
more  people  for  your  grace  than  against  you ; 
yea,  more  than  half  this  kingdom." 

"It  may  be,"  the  queen  replied;  "I  will  so 
believe  it.  Truly,  I  hate  to  look  with  sus 
picion  on  so  fair  a  face,  yet  I  know  one  fair 
face  that  hideth  a  false  heart.  But  all  women 
are  not  harlots,  thanks  be  to  the  Virgin  !  This 
young  girl  tells  me  she  has  never  been  to 
court,  never  seen  a  joust,  never  joined  the  gay 
revellers  at  a  mask.  Doubtless  her  uncle  will 


THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  THE  RUSSET  CLOAK   57 

take  her  presently  to  curtsy  to  that  woman 
whom  they  call  the  queen,  the  true  queen  being 
not  dead,  albeit  like  to  die.  Mistress  Carew 
will  make  a  fair  figure  at  the  court,  fairer  than 
many,  say  you  not  so,  Patience?  " 

"Ay,  gracious  Queen,"  Patience  answered, 
eagerly  catching  the  drift  of  her  royal  mis 
tress's  thoughts,  "I  know  none  fairer;  she  is 
so  tall  and  straight  and  withal  so  beautifully 
moulded.  Not  lean  and  long,  but  round  and 
supple;  and  her  skin  is  dazzling  when  the 
color  comes,  while  those  brown  eyes  of  hers 
are  two  shining  lights,  and  she  has  a  mouth 
like  Cupid's  bow." 

"Truly,  you  have  drawn  a  picture  that  might 
delight  a  lover, "  Catherine  said,  smiling;  "the 
court  is  a  dangerous  place  to  show  such 
charms.  What  think  you,  my  girls,  is  she  not 
fairer  than  one  Anne  ?  " 

"A  hundred  times,"  they  answered  gladly, 
ever  willing  to  humor  their  unhappy  mistress. 

For  a  moment  the  queen  did  not  reply;  she 
sat  looking  before  her  with  an  ironical  smile 
playing  about  her  lips. 

"  'T  is  a  pity  to  mew  up  such  a  beauty  at 
Kimbolton,"  she  said  at  last.  "Ah,  if  we 
could  but  get  my  lord  privy  seal  to  take  her  to 
the  court,  then  might  we  see  if  the  star  that 


58  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

shineth  there  is  fixed,  or  but  trembles  to  its 
fall.  Alas ! "  she  continued,  after  a  moment, 
rousing  herself  from  her  mood,  "how  captivity 
and  misfortune  sour  the  temper !  My  thoughts 
were  most  unworthy  and  unqueenly.  I  may 
well  let  that  poor  creature  rush  to  her  certain 
doom  unmolested  by  any  ill-will  of  mine;  a 
crown  so  ravished  must  press  with  thorns  upon 
the  wearer's  brow." 

Unconscious  both  of  their  admiration  and 
their  talk  of  her,  Mistress  Betty  went  her  way 
among  them,  the  gloomy  experience  telling  in 
a  manner  upon  her  life  and  character,  teach 
ing  her  alike  to  repress  her  natural  feelings 
and  to  endure  suspicion  without  openly  express 
ing  her  indignation.  The  last  was  no  easy 
matter,  for  she  had  a  high  temper  and  a  pas 
sionate  resentment  of  injustice.  Her  only 
comfort  was  the  privilege  she  enjoyed  of  long 
rides  with  Sir  Edmund  Bedingfield.  Knowing 
her  uncle,  and  trusting  her  where  he  would  not 
have  dared  to  trust  the  queen's  older  attend 
ants,  he  gave  her  more  license.  Finding  that 
she  rode  well  and  loved  to  be  on  a  fine  horse's 
back,  having  inherited  her  father's  apprecia 
tion  of  a  good  animal,  Bedingfield  permitted 
her  to  accompany  his  party  when  he  made 
excursions  in  the  neighborhood.  And  so  it 


THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  THE  RUSSET  CLOAK   59 

was  that,  by  a  chance,  Mistress  Carew  made 
the  acquaintance  of  a  person  who  was  to  play 
no  unimportant  part  in  her  life.  Accompanied 
by  her  woman  and  two  stout  grooms,  she  had 
been  out  with  Sir  Edmund  upon  an  errand  in 
the  country  near  Kimbolton.  Returning  at 
noonday,  they  drew  rein  at  the  Inn  of  the  Sign 
of  the  Blue  Boar,  where  Bedingfield  and  his 
two  male  attendants  dismounted  and  went  into 
the  tavern,  Sir  Edmund  for  some  information, 
and  the  two  men  for  liquor.  Betty  and  her 
woman  waited  without,  and  as  they  were 
detained  a  little  while,  there  was  ample  oppor 
tunity  to  look  about  them.  It  being  noonday, 
the  courtyard  of  the  Blue  Boar  was  full  of 
horses,  tied  and  awaiting  their  masters,  who 
were  eating  and  drinking  within.  A  few  idle 
grooms  lounged  near  the  stables,  waiting  to 
earn  a  guerdon  from  a  new  arrival,  and  in  the 
window  of  the  kitchen  leaned  two  or  three 
rosy-faced  maids  gazing  out  at  the  scene. 
Betty's  horse,  a  restive  creature,  stood  out 
upon  the  road  at  the  gate,  and  being  occupied 
with  her  own  thoughts,  she  let  the  reins  lie 
slack  upon  his  neck,  although  she  knew  his 
spirit.  Suddenly  there  was  the  sound  of  a 
horse's  hoofs  upon  the  road  behind  her,  com 
ing  at  a  gallop,  and  she  turned  her  head  to 


6O  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

observe  the  new  arrival.  As  she  did  so,  a 
piebald  horse  with  a  darkly  cloaked  rider  on 
his  back  came  dashing  past  her.  She  had  no 
time  for  observation;  her  own  animal  plunged 
so  wildly  that  she  nearly  lost  her  seat,  and 
kept  it  only  by  virtue  of  her  early  training. 
So  strange  was  the  encounter  that  she  was 
almost  certain  that  the  new-comer  cut  her  horse 
with  his  whip  as  he  passed.  How  it  was,  she 
could  not  tell,  except  that  her  gallant  black 
was  off  at  a  gallop,  and  she  could  scarcely  have 
curbed  him  but  for  the  interference  of  the 
rider  of  the  piebald  steed.  He  dashed  along 
the  road,  riding  across  her  path,  and  with  won 
derful  dexterity  caught  her  bridle  rein,  halting 
the  runaway.  Coming  thus  to  a  standstill, 
some  twenty  yards  from  the  inn,  Betty  found 
herself  face  to  face  with  the  stranger,  while 
behind  them  there  was  a  great  commotion,  all 
the  visitors  at  the  tavern  having  run  out  to 
witness  what  they  expected  would  be  an  acci 
dent.  Intensely  angry  and  with  scarlet  cheeks, 
Mistress  Betty  gazed  haughtily  at  the  cause  of 
her  misadventure.  The  rider  of  the  piebald 
was  a  man  far  below  average  size,  thin  and 
wiry,  with  a  small,  dark  face,  grizzled  hair  and 
mustaches,  and  eyes  of  such  keenness  and  so 
intensely  black  that  they  startled  the  observer, 


THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  THE  RUSSET  CLOAK  6 1 

saving  their  owner  from  any  charge  of  insig 
nificance.  Insignificant  he  was  not,  in  spite 
of  his  small  stature  and  his  plain  garments, 
which  were  russet  in  color  from  his  high  rid 
ing-boots  to  his  cloak,  which  he  wore  after  the 
fashion  of  the  Spaniards.  Encountering  now 
Mistress  Carew's  indignant  gaze,  he  took  off 
his  hat  with  elaborate  courtesy  and  congratu 
lated  her  on  her  safety  as  if  he  were  uncon 
scious  of  having  had  any  part  in  the  matter. 

"  It  was  fortunate  that  I  came  at  the  moment, 
fair  mistress,"  he  said;  and  she  noticed  that  he 
had  a  singular  but  not  unpleasant  voice.  "  You 
are  riding  too  spirited  an  animal  for  a  lady; 
let  me  recommend  a  gentler  one  to  Sir 
Edmund." 

Betty  started  at  the  mention  of  Bedingfield's 
name,  but  recollecting  how  well  he  was  known 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Kimbolton,  she  thought 
it  but  folly  to  be  surprised  that  the  stranger 
knew  to  whose  party  she  belonged. 

"I  thank  you,  sir,"  she  said,  a  little  curtly; 
"the  horse  has  never  acted  so  before  unless 
switched,  and,  indeed,  I  do  not  think  he  would 
have  run  had  you  ridden  at  a  more  moderate 
pace." 

"  I  grieve  to  think  myself  the  cause  of  your 
discomfort,  madam,"  the  stranger  replied,  but 


62  THE  HOUSE    OF   THE    WIZARD 

with  an  amused  smile.  "Jack  Kotch  and  I 
never  go  slow,"  he  added,  turning  his  horse, 
and,  to  her  annoyance,  keeping  at  Betty's  rein 
as  she  went  toward  the  inn. 

"  It  is  ill  judged  to  run  a  horse  so  close  to 
one  standing  as  mine  was,"  she  said,  still  too 
angry  to  let  the  matter  pass. 

"It  is,  and  I  crave  your  pardon,"  the  other 
rejoined  cheerfully;  "another  time  I  will  bring 
my  horse  to  a  walk,  Mistress  Carew." 

Betty  looked  up  amazed  at  hearing  her  own 
name,  and  encountered  the  stranger's  wonderful 
eyes  with  a  gleam  of  amusement  in  them. 

Bedingfield,  who  had  mounted  in  the  interval, 
now  rode  up,  and  the  little  adventure  had  to 
be  explained  to  him.  He,  seeing  only  ready 
courage  and  dexterity  in  the  conduct  of  the 
new-comer,  was  cordial  in  his  thanks,  and  even 
permitted  this  strange  person  to  ride  back  with 
the  party  toward  Kimbolton.  This  seemed  to 
be  the  opportunity  that  the  little  man  desired, 
and  he  was  soon  engaged  in  earnest  conversa 
tion  with  Sir  Edmund.  So  entertaining  did 
he  make  himself  that  Bedingfield,  to  Betty's 
surprise,  invited  him  to  come  in  to  rest  when 
they  reached  the  castle.  Usually,  all  visitors 
underwent  a  severe  scrutiny  on  account  of  the 
presence  of  the  queen,  but  this  stranger  seemed 


THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  THE  RUSSET  CLOAK  63 

to  have  overcome  the  castellan's  scruples  and 
the  piebald  horse  was  led  to  the  stables,  while 
the  rider,  smaller  than  ever  now  he  was  dis 
mounted,  followed  Sir  Edmund  into  the  hall. 
Betty's  mind  still  rankling  with  the  belief  that 
her  horse  had  been  cut  with  the  whip  of  the 
piebald's  master,  and  her  curiosity  piqued  by 
the  little  man's  appearance,  she  asked  the 
woman  with  her  if  she  had  ever  seen  him 
before.  They  were  going  up  the  stairs  from 
the  hall,  Sir  Edmund  and  his  guest  standing 
by  the  table  below,  and  at  the  question  the 
woman,  a  servant  at  Kimbolton,  drew  nearer 
and  plucked  her  dress  with  nervous  fingers. 

"Hist,  mistress!"  she  exclaimed  in  a  low 
tone,  "his  ears  are  long.  I  have  seen  him  but 
once  before,  but  I  know  him  full  well ;  it  is 
the  famous  wizard." 

"A  wizard!  that  little  bandy-legged  man  a 
wizard?"  Betty  cried,  amazed. 

"  Hush  ! "  said  the  woman,  her  dull  face  full 
of  fear,  "he  reads  your  thoughts,  he  sees 
visions.  'T  is  said  that  he  did  see,  in  a  dream, 
Richard  Rouse  put  the  poison  in  my  lord  of 
Rochester's  bran  meal  at  Lambeth  Marsh,  and 
that  he  had  warned  Richard,  seven  years  before, 
that  he  would  be  boiled  alive  at  Smithfield,  as 
he  was.  I  would  not  offend  that  little  gentle- 


64  THE  HOUSE    OF   THE    WIZARD 

man  in  the  russet  cloak  for  a  kingdom;  no,  not 
I !  They  do  say  that  his  piebald  horse  was  a 
good  bay,  until  he  waved  a  striped  wand  over 
him,  at  which  the  horse  sneezed  three  times 
and  eftsoons  came  out  white  with  three  bay 
spots  upon  him.  'T  is  my  belief  that  this  same 
wizard  is  allied  with  Satan,  and  so  think  many 
honest  folk.  Avoid  him,  mistress,  and  you 
love  your  life! " 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  WIZARD'S  VISIT 

IN  their  gloomy  rooms  Queen  Catherine  and 
her  maids  sat  working  when  Mistress  Betty 
entered,  rosy  from  her  ride  and  the  excitement 
of  her  adventure,  which  promised  now  to  be  of 
some  interest.  The  queen,  glancing  up  at  her 
entrance,  caught  the  glow  in  the  new-comer's 
face  and  smiled  more  pleasantly  than  usual. 

"  How  wonderfully  freedom  and  exercise 
affect  young  blood!"  she  said;  "the  wench  is 
blooming  as  a  Christmas  rose.  Come  hither, 
my  girl,  and  tell  us  of  your  ride;  perchance  it 
may  seem  like  the  recital  of  a  chapter  of  wild 
adventures  to  us.  Youth  and  hope  see  all 
things  in  a  golden  light;  what  knight  rode 
at  your  bridle  rein  ?  what  dragon  was  slain 
at  your  approach?  Such  faces  as  yours  open 
new  channels  of  chivalry  in  the  hearts  of 
men.  Saw  you  not  some  marvel  that  may 
serve  to  cheer  us  in  our  solitude?" 

"Nay,  madam,"  Betty  replied,  smiling,   "I 
met  with   no  such  wonders;  but  I    did  see  a 
wizard  riding  on  a  piebald  horse." 
5 


66  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

"A  wizard  on  a  piebald  horse?"  repeated 
Catherine;  "'tis  well,  so  you  saw  not  Death 
riding  on  a  white  one,  as  they  say  my  lord  of 
Buckingham  did  once.  How  knew  you  the 
gentleman  for  a  wizard?  Did  he  carry  the  sym 
bols  of  his  trade  displayed,  or  had  he  a  terrible 
learned  countenance  that  confounded  all  men 
at  the  view? " 

"  Your  grace  should  see  what  a  small,  bandy 
legged  creature  it  is,  much  like  a  frog,"  said 
Mistress  Carew,  "only  that  he  wears  russet 
instead  of  green,  and  has  a  smooth  tongue,  so 
that  even  now  he  wins  the  regard  of  Sir 
Edmund." 

"What,  is  he  here?"  exclaimed  the  queen, 
in  surprise;  "I  knew  not  that  Bedingfield 
would  admit  any  one  without  the  warrant  of 
my  lord  privy  seal;  surely,  Cromwell  hath  not 
sent  a  sorcerer  to  conjure  me,"  she  added  with 
an  ironical  laugh. 

"Rode  he  a  piebald  horse?  "  asked  Patience, 
the  queen's  woman;  "I  think  I  cannot  mistake 
the  man." 

"A  piebald  horse,  surely,"  answered  Betty 
Carew,  "and  he  is  clad  in  russet  from  top  to 
toe;  his  cloak  is  of  velvet,  but  his  doublet,  I 
think,  was  no  more  than  sarsenet,  and  he  wears 
one  straight  black  feather  in  the  front  of  his 


THE    WIZARD'S   VISIT  6/ 

low  hat.  His  eyes  are  bright  —  the  brightest 
that  I  ever  saw  —  and  he  has  a  pointed  gray 
beard,  after  the  fashion  of  the  Spaniards.  I 
noticed,  too,  that  his  eyebrows  were  arched  up 
sharply,  almost  in  a  point,  which  gave  him  a 
strange  look,  like  an  owl." 

"  'T  is  Zachary  Sanders,"  exclaimed  Patience. 
"Your  highness  does  remember,  surely;  'tis 
he  who  made  the  wonderful  ring  for  my  lord 
cardinal  and  sent  the  scroll  of  her  horoscope  to 
the  Princess  Mary." 

"I  do  seem  to  remember,"  the  queen  said 
musingly,  "but  it  is  strange  I  do.  Like  a 
great  sea,  raging  and  terrible,  the  waters  of 
Marah  have  overwhelmed  me,  sweeping  on 
every  side  in  a  mighty  torrent,  carrying  away 
all  my  strong  friends  and  steadfast  helpers.  As 
the  ocean,  overflowing  its  borders,  sweeps  high 
upon  the  land,  and  when  its  tide  recedes, 
carries  away  all  the  habitations  that  man  has 
built  upon  the  sand,  and  there  is  no  remnant 
left  thereof  to  tell  the  tale  of  the  disaster,  so 
the  tide  of  my  sorrow  hath  carried  all  things 
from  my  memory,  stripping  the  beach  of  my 
mind  and  leaving  only  wreckage  where  once 
were  lovely  mansions  of  thought  and  fancy. 
Yet,  as  the  saints  bear  witness,  I  did  build  my 
hope  upon  rock  and  looked  steadfastly  for  its 


68  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

fulfilment.  Alas,  alas!"  she  added,  tears 
shining  in  her  eyes,  "  the  tides  have  beaten  on 
it,  and  only  the  sure  anchor  of  my  hope  in 
heaven  doth  endure." 

"  Nay,  nay,  madam,"  her  woman  cried,  "  speak 
not  so  disconsolately;  the  emperor  bears  up 
your  just  quarrel,  and  the  new  pope  has 
declared  for  your  cause.  Look  rather  at  the 
good  hope  you  have  in  the  love  your  people 
bear  you  and  your  fair  daughter,  the  Princess 
Mary." 

Catherine  roused  herself,  her  weakness  had 
been  but  momentary,  and  she  regained  her 
composure  almost  as  quickly  as  she  had  lost  it. 

"  It  is  for  the  Princess  Mary  that  I  live,"  she 
said  quietly ;  "  in  my  good  daughter  I  have  an 
assured  comfort." 

" '  T  was  the  horoscope  of  the  princess  that 
this  wizard  cast,  who  is  now  below,"  her 
attendant  said.  "  I  should  like  to  have  your 
majesty  see  him ;  he  would  furnish  much  enter 
tainment  for  an  hour  on  such  an  evening  as 
this."  The  good  woman  was  eager  to  change 
the  drift  of  Catherine's  thoughts. 

The  queen  smiled  as  she  turned  to   Betty. 

"What  say  you,  maiden?"  she  asked; 
"would  this  marvellous  little  man  divert  my 
poor  girls  for  an  hour  ? " 


THE    WIZARD'S    VISIT  69 

"I  cannot  tell,"  Betty  answered  soberly,  for 
she  was  touched  at  the  queen's  emotion  — 
Catherine's  habitual  coldness  was  repulsive, 
but  in  such  moments  of  sorrow  she  was  more 
attractive;  "'tis  certain  that  he  furnished  me 
with  ten  minutes  of  sharp  entertainment  this 
noon,"  and  she  told  them  briefly  of  the  wild 
gallop  of  the  wizard  and  her  own  misadventure. 

"  We  must  see  this  fiery  horseman,  if  Bed- 
ingfield  will  let  us,"  said  the  queen  when  she 
had  heard  the  story;  "see,  my  maids,  how 
obedient  I  grow  from  force  of  habit!  If  her 
jailer  wills  it,  the  Queen  of  England  would 
see  a  travelling  wizard  for  an  hour  of  wild 
diversion.  Forsooth,  't  will  cast  in  shadow 
the  jousts  at  Greenwich  in  honor  of  the  Mar 
chioness  of  Pembroke!  Go  you,  Mistress 
Carew,  for  you  are  in  favor,  and  pray  Sir 
Edmund  to  send  this  fortune-teller  to  us." 

Thus  admonished,  Betty  went  upon  the 
errand  with  alacrity,  glad  to  escape  from  the 
sadness  that  the  queen's  mood  had  cast  upon 
the  scene,  and  moved,  too,  by  a  young  girl's 
curiosity  which  had  been  awakened  by  the 
reports  of  the  wizard.  She  found  Bedingfield 
still  entertaining  the  small  stranger,  and  pre 
ferred  Catherine's  suit  with  some  hesitation 
on  account  of  his  presence.  Sir  Edmund's 


70  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

face  clouded  a  little  at  the  proposition  and  he 
stood  a  few  moments  staring  moodily  at  the 
floor.  Betty,  standing  at  a  short  distance, 
observed  the  two  with  interested  eyes.  The 
wizard  had  fastened  his  gaze  on  his  com 
panion's  face  as  soon  as  Betty  told  her  errand 
and  watched  him  much  as  a  cat  watches  a 
mouse,  but  there  was  no  expression  on  his 
small  and  wizened  countenance  to  indicate  his 
feelings.  He  was  sitting  on  a  low  settle, 
his  short  legs  drawn  under  it  and  his  chin 
resting  in  his  hands;  something  in  his  gray 
hair  and  dull  skin,  his  brown  clothing  and 
diminutive  size,  gave  him  the  appearance  of 
some  hobgoblin  of  fairy  lore.  Bedingfield  was 
manifestly  puzzled;  the  queen's  request  was 
simple  and  natural  enough,  and  there  seemed 
no  reasonable  excuse  for  denying  it,  yet  Sir 
Edmund  was  uneasy.  There  was  something 
about  the  wizard  which  indicated  a  keen  wit 
and  no  ordinary  energy  of  purpose,  and  Beding 
field  knew  that  there  were  dealings  with  Rome 
and  Spain,  —  dealings  that  Cromwell  and  the 
king  desired  to  break  off,  —  and  here  was  a 
stranger  who  might  be  bent  on  mischief,  yet 
there  was  no  reasonable  excuse  to  refuse  him 
admittance  to  the  queen's  presence.  The  fact 
that  he  had  not  petitioned  for  it  was  in  his 


THE    WIZARD'S    VISIT  fl 

favor  and  Bedingfield  knew  well  enough  that 
the  poor  women  in  his  charge  were  sadly  in 
need  of  some  small  diversion.  Catherine  had 
done  wisely  to  choose  Betty  Carew  for  her  mes 
senger;  the  wistful  expression  on  the  young 
girl's  fresh  face  went  far  toward  prevailing 
with  Sir  Edmund.  After  a  few  moments  of 
hesitation,  he  despatched  one  of  his  own  gentle 
men  with  the  wizard,  to  conduct  him  to  the 
queen  and  remain  in  attendance  during  the 
interview,  at  the  same  time  bidding  Betty  go 
before  to  warn  the  little  court  that  the  request 
was  granted. 

Mistress  Carew  sped  on  her  errand  with  the 
swift  feet  of  youth,  and  before  the  wizard  and 
his  escort  had  reached  the  top  of  the  stair,  she 
had  entered  the  queen's  room.  As  she  lifted 
the  curtain  at  the  door,  something  in  the  scene 
within  arrested  her  attention.  Catherine  sat 
more  erect  than  usual,  and  her  three  maids  were 
gathered  about  her  talking  in  low  tones;  there 
was  an  animation  in  their  looks  so  unusual 
that  Betty  thought  in  an  instant  that  there  was 
some  new  interest  in  the  air,  some  scheme 
afoot.  At  the  sight  of  her,  however,  the 
habitual  expressions  came  back  to  their  faces, 
and  Catherine  received  her  announcement  with 
her  usual  manner. 


72  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"I  have  no  royal  robes  to  assume,"  she  said, 
in  a  tone  of  bitterness,  "  but  truly  there  must 
be  some  state  with  which  to  hold  our  levee. 
Come,  my  girls,  stand  around  me,  arrange  the 
log  upon  the  hearth,  move  yonder  fire-screen; 
the  Queen  of  England  will  receive  the  wizard 
Sanders ! " 

"  Madam,  the  jest  is  bitter,"  replied  Patience, 
sadly ;  "  spare  us  —  who  so  bemoan  your  case 
—  the  sharp  edge  of  your  wit,  whereby  the  loss 
of  your  high  estate  is  in  no  manner  redeemed. 
You  are  still  our  gracious  sovereign  lady,  and 
so  would  be  were  you  an  outcast  from  this 
realm  which  hath  so  uncharitably  used  you." 

"I  thank  you,  wench,"  Catherine  replied, 
her  face  softening  at  the  expression  of  her 
attendant's  devotion;  "you  teach  the  queen  to 
bear  herself  more  worthily.  Ah,  good  Patience, 
you  know  not  how  deep  the  wound  corrodes  my 
lonely  heart.  Albeit  a  queen,  and  the  daughter 
of  a  king,  I  am  yet  a  woman,  and  a  woman's 
heart  doth  crave  a  little  tenderness,  —  a  little 
love, — a  little  shelter,  or  else,  God  wot,  it 
starves ! " 

All  her  attendants  drew  nearer  to  her  chair, 
and  tears  shone  in  their  eyes;  the  touch  of 
womanly  weakness  in  the  cold  character  of  the 
injured  princess  appealed  to  them  more  sharply 


THE    WIZARD'S   VISIT  73 

because  of  its  contrast  with  her  habitual  auster 
ity.  Catherine  pressed  her  handkerchief  to  her 
own  eyes,  and  there  was  a  painful  silence, 
broken  only  by  the  sound  of  footsteps  at  the 
door  and  the  voice  of  the  usher  announcing  the 
entrance  of  the  wizard.  At  this  interruption 
the  queen  was  herself  in  a  moment,  and 
received  the  visitor  with  her  usual  cold 
dignity. 

The  scene  was  a  strange  one;  the  fire  was 
burning  low  on  the  hearth,  but  a  bright  glow 
shone  from  the  bed  of  fiery  embers  in  which 
the  fallen  log  lay  smouldering.  The  room,  a 
large  and  gloomy  one,  was  hung  with  dark 
tapestries,  which  increased  the  somber  effect, 
and  it  was  only  imperfectly  lighted  by  the 
narrow  windows  at  the  farther  end.  In  her 
great  chair  by  the  chimney  sat  the  queen  clad 
in  black,  and  her  hair  entirely  concealed  by 
her  velvet  cap.  Around  her  were  grouped  her 
four  ladies,  Betty  Carew  alone  blooming  with 
youth  and  beauty  in  this  sad  place.  Into  this 
little  company  of  women  came  now  the  small, 
strange  figure  of  the  man  who  called  himself 
Zachary  Sanders,  the  most  famous  wizard  in 
the  south  of  England.  He  still  wore  his  russet 
cloak,  fastened  by  a  clasp  and  chain  that  had 
been  loosened  so  the  mantle  hung  behind,  only 


74  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

kept  from  slipping  off  his  shoulders  by  the 
chain.  His  jacket  and  doublet  were  of  russet- 
colored  sarsenet,  and  he  wore  no  ornament  but 
a  curiously  wrought  silver  serpent,  which  was 
secured  below  his  collar  and  hung  on  his 
breast.  Without  his  hat  he  was  a  far  more 
notable  person  than  with  it,  for  he  had  a  large 
and  finely  developed  head,  the  sphere  of  the 
brain  well  arched  and  full  and  with  no  ugly 
slant  of  the  forehead,  and  not  too  protuberant 
behind,  but  with  a  fine  line  from  the  nape  of 
the  neck  to  the  crown.  His  owlish  eyebrows 
and  pointed  gray  beard  and  mustache  gave  a 
slightly  sinister  cast  to  his  features,  but  his 
eyes  were  so  remarkable,  both  for  size  and 
brilliancy,  that  all  else  sank  into  insignificance 
by  contrast.  He  came  forward  with  an  ease 
that  indicated  a  person  accustomed  to  encoun 
tering  people  of  all  ranks  in  life,  one  who 
was  as  little  likely  to  be  amazed  at  magnifi 
cence  as  he  would  be  touched  by  distress.  He 
made  a  profound  obeisance  to  the  queen,  and 
she  held  out  her  hand,  prompted,  perhaps,  by 
the  thought  that  she  could  not  afford  to  lose  a 
friend,  however  humble.  He  knelt  on  one 
knee  and  kissed  it  with  an  apparently  sincere 
feeling  of  homage. 

"I  have  heard  of  you  many  times,  sir,"  said 


THE    WIZARD'S    VISIT  75 

Catherine,  gravely,  "and  my  women  were 
eager  to  have  some  entertainment  and  instruc 
tion.  Doubtless  they  would  look  curiously 
into  the  future,  fancying  great  things  in  store. 
I  pray  you  gratify  their  innocent  desires,  if 
you  may;  for  my  part,  such  prognostications 
are  of  little  comfort.  Having  encountered  so 
great  disasters,  I  do  dread  to  look  beyond  the 
hour;  for  me  such  dreams  are  done." 

"Yet  it  should  not  be  so,  your  grace,"  the 
wizard  answered,  regarding  the  queen  ear 
nestly;  "your  horoscope  hath  no  such  evil 
ending  to  it." 

"You  flatter  me,  good  Sanders,"  she  replied 
bitterly;  "I  am  no  longer  young  enough  to  be 
deceived  by  such  follies.  Here  is  a  maid 
whose  fortune  should  smile  like  her  face,"  she 
added,  pointing  to  Mistress  Betty,  who  stood 
near  her;  "your  arts  should  weave  a  tale  of 
love  and  happiness  for  youth  and  beauty." 

"  I  cast  her  horoscope  this  noon  at  the  Blue 
Boar,"  the  wizard  said,  with  a  queer  smile. 
"Venus  was  in  fortunate  conjunction  with 
Mars  when  Mistress  Carew  was  born." 

"Did  you  learn  that  by  striking  my  horse, 
Master  Sanders?"  Betty  retorted,  with  a 
mischievous  glance  from  under  her  black 
lashes. 


76  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

The  astrologer  looked  at  her  with  an  immov 
able  face. 

"You  are  mistaken,"  he  said  calmly;  "I 
touched  not  the  beast.  It  sometimes  happens 
that  these  dumb  creatures  recognize  a  power 
more  than  human,  and  are  so  thrown  into  a 
convulsion  of  terror." 

"With  your  aid?  "  persisted  the  young  girl, 
laughing  incredulously,  and  even  the  queen 
smiled. 

"My  young  mistress  is  inclined  to  jest," 
Sanders  remarked  grimly,  "and  to  make  light 
of  my  art,  but  this  will  not  be  so  when  she 
talks  to  her  affianced  husband." 

"  My  affianced  husband !  "  exclaimed  Betty, 
with  indignation;  "you  are  much  in  error  in 
good  sooth,  for  I  am  not  promised." 

The  wizard  looked  at  her  and  laughed,  his 
brilliant  eyes  almost  fascinating  the  young 
girl's  startled  gaze. 

"You  were  promised  in  your  cradle,  and  a 
lovely  mate  you  are  like  to  get,  Mistress 
Carew,"  he  answered  quietly,  with  such  a 
tone  of  certainty  that  Betty  experienced  a 
sharp  sensation  of  apprehension. 

"  'T  is  false !  "  she  exclaimed  passionately,  her 
agitation  so  genuine  that  the  queen  interposed. 

"Why  fret  the   child,   sir   wizard?"  Cathe- 


THE    WIZARD'S   VISIT  77 

rine  said ;  "  what  warrant  have   you   for  this 
statement  ? " 

Sanders  turned  to  her  with  courteous  respect, 
although  his  face  showed  a  certain  malicious 
enjoyment. 

"  We  read  these  matters  in  the  stars,  madam," 
he  said  gravely,  "and  they  cannot  mislead  us. 
Mistress  Carew  is  promised  to  a  tall,  dark 
man  with  a  sword-cut  across  his  left  eyebrow; 
one  day  she  will  find  that  the  astrologer  has 
not  lied." 

Seeing  Betty's  angry  alarm,  Catherine  turned 
the  matter  aside ;  she  had  the  tact  to  avoid  a 
scene  which  was  becoming  unpleasant. 

"  You  claim  that  all  your  knowledge  is  from 
the  stars,  sir?"  she  asked  indifferently,  "and 
there  is  no  human  agency  in  the  affair? " 

"None,  madam,"  the  wizard  rejoined 
solemnly;  "we  read  the  destinies  of  men  and 
women  in  the  heavens,  and  the  future  even  of 
this  realm  unrolls  itself  in  that  great  scroll  for 
the  marvelling  eye  of  the  seer  to  read." 

The  queen  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and 
shaded  her  eyes  with  her  hand. 

."The  future  of  this  realm!"  she  said  in  a 
low  voice;  "I  pray  the  saints  for  it!  I,  who 
have  never  done  England  any  goo'd,  would  be 
sorry  indeed  to  do  it  harm." 


78  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"You  need  have  no  fear,  madam,"  the  sage 
rejoined,  speaking  as  low  as  she,  so  that  the 
usher  sent  by  Bedingfield,  who  was  posted  at 
the  door,  could  not  catch  their  words. 

Catherine  looked  up  quickly. 

"You  speak  confidently,"  she  said;  "why 
so  ? " 

"Your  grace  does  well  to  ask,"  he  answered 
gravely.  "I  have  seen  a  vision,  such  an  one 
as  no  man  sees  but  once  or  twice  in  a  lifetime, 
even  though  he  is  born  to  read  the  stars." 

"Speak  on,"  said  the  queen,  as  he  paused. 

The  little  circle  by  the  fire  had  drawn  close, 
all  eager  attention  except  Mistress  Betty,  who 
stood  apart,  angry  and  secretly  alarmed,  al 
though  she  fought  stoutly  against  the  dread 
which  beset  her.  At  the  queen's  admonition, 
the  wizard  drew  nearer,  and  stood  facing  the 
hearth,  the  red  glow  of  the  embers  casting  a 
lurid  light  on  his  wizened  figure  and  a  fiery 
glint  in  his  great  eyes.  He  did  not  seem  to 
see  the  others,  but  recited  his  tale  like  a  man 
in  a  trance. 

"'Twas  night,"  he  said,  "and  I  was  in  my 
laboratory  studying  the  heavens.  Mars  was 
red  as  blood.  Suddenly,  before  me,  there  was 
a  wide  ray  of  white  light  which  constantly 
expanded,  until  I  saw  in  it  a  marvellous  flower- 


THE    WIZARD'S    VISIT  79 

garden,  a  vast  place,  full  of  bloom  and  with 
great  gates,  on  which  were  emblazoned  the 
arms  of  England.  Within,  there  was  a  tall 
white  rose  upon  a  single  stem,  and  it  shone 
lustrous.  No  one  was  in  the  garden,  and  with 
out  were  the  pope,  the  Emperor  of  the  Germans, 
and  the  Queen  of  Hungary,  while,  closer  to 
the  gate,  stood  your  grace's  champion,  Regi 
nald  Pole.  Presently  I  saw  a  woman  walking 
through  the  garden  dressed  in  cloth  of  gold, 
with  a  crown  on  her  head,  and  on  her  robes 
the  arms  of  England  and  Spain  united.  She 
came  across  the  garden  to  the  white  rose,  and 
it  bowed  down  to  her;  she  plucked  it,  holding 
it  up  and  looking  at  Pole,  and  then  I  knew 
her.  After  that,  she  touched  the  gates  with 
the  white  rose  and  they  flew  open,  and  those 
without  came  in  and  kissed  her.  When  she 
kneeled  to  receive  the  pope's  blessing,  I  saw 
her  face  plainly;  it  was  the  Princess  Mary." 

When  he  ceased  speaking,  Catherine  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands;  the  superstition  of 
the  age  and  her  blood  stirred  within  a  naturally 
strong  woman.  After  a  moment,  she  spoke 
almost  in  a  whisper. 

"And  the  king?"  she  said. 

"Madam,  you  know  the  northern  prophecy," 
the  wizard  replied;  "the  decorate  rose  shall  be 


80  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

slain  in  his  mother's  womb, — which  means 
the  death  of  one  who  hath  offended.  And 
she  "  —  the  speaker  lowered  his  voice  so  that  it 
was  scarcely  more  than  a  whisper  —  "she  who 
hath  wrought  this  woe,  her  horoscope  doth 
show  a  sudden  and  a  shameful  death." 

"  I  pray  it  may  be  so ! "  exclaimed  one  of 
the  queen's  women;  "may  a  curse  light  on  her 
—  may  — " 

"Nay,  curse  her  not,"  interrupted  Catherine, 
coldly;  "the  time  is  not  far  off  when  ye  shall 
have  great  reason  to  pity  her,  yea,  to  com 
miserate  her  estate." 

"Ay,"  replied  the  wizard,  "an  agony  awaits 
her  —  a  blood-red  axe  is  in  her  destiny." 

This  low-spoken  conversation  had  irritated 
the  attendant  sent  by  Bedingfield,  and  con 
scious  that  to  permit  it  to  continue  would  be  a 
transgression  of  his  orders,  he  came  forward 
now  and  reminded  Sanders  that  he  had  exceeded 
the  limit  of  his  visit.  The  queen  resented  the 
interference,  and  turned  as  if  to  speak  in 
anger;  but,  on  second  thought,  repented  her 
determination,  only  treating  the  matter  with 
her  accustomed  scorn. 

"Tell  your  master,"  she  said  to  the  usher, 
"that  the  queen  was  so  wonderfully  entertained 
that  she  forgot  her  usual  obedience  to  his 


THE    WIZARD'S    VISIT  8 1 

orders  and  craves  his  pardon.  Master  Sanders, 
I  thank  you  for  your  diverting  discourse,"  she 
added  to  the  astrologer.  "  I  am  so  poor  I  may 
not  even  reward  my  entertainment;  but  con 
tinue,  sir,  to  read  in  the  stars  the  salvation  of 
this  realm,  and  so  find  your  reward." 

The  wizard  made  his  obeisance  and  turned 
to  withdraw;  as  he  did  so,  a  tiny  packet  fell 
from  under  his  cloak,  and  Mistress  Betty  noted 
that  Patience  set  her  foot  upon  it,  making  no 
effort  to  restore  it  to  its  owner.  When  he 
reached  the  door,  Sanders  turned  for  the  last 
time  toward  the  queen,  and  making  a  strange 
sign  with  his  hands,  bowed  and  withdrew. 


CHAPTER   VII 

MISTRESS    CAREW'S    ALLEGIANCE 

IT  was  dusk;  the  shadows  were  folding 
thickly  about  the  gloomy  walls  of  Kimbolton. 
In  the  queen's  drawing-room  Betty  Carew  sat 
alone,  a  solitary  taper  burning  on  the  table 
beside  her,  while  she  mechanically  turned  the 
leaves  of  the  illuminated  missal,  her  thoughts 
being  far  away.  The  queen  had  been  ill  for 
some  days;  she  was  able  to  sit  up,  but  kept 
her  own  chamber.  Below,  in  the  apartments 
of  Bedingfield,  were  two  gentlemen  from  the 
privy  council,  and  with  them,  as  Betty  knew, 
the  Marquis  of  Exeter.  Something  had  hap 
pened;  what,  the  young  girl  scarcely  divined. 
The  three  visitors  had  arrived  almost  at  day 
break,  and  at  noon  there  had  been  a  stormy 
interview  in  Catherine's  room,  from  which 
Mistress  Carew  was  excluded.  After  it  was 
over,  the  queen  was  in  more  distress  than 
Betty  had  ever  seen  her;  she  even  wept, 
and  called  passionately  for  her  daughter, —  an 
unusual  outbreak,  followed  by  a  season  of 


MISTXESS  CAREIVS  ALLEGIANCE  83 

exhaustion.  She  was  reported  now  to  be 
asleep,  her  three  favorite  attendants  watching 
her,  while  the  youngest  of  all  sat  like  an  out 
cast  and  a  spy  in  the  outer  room.  There  had 
been  much  secret  dealing  of  late,  Betty  knew, 
and  she  felt  that  they  were  careful  to  shut  her 
out,  ever  suspicious  of  her  motives.  That 
day,  she  had  heard  Exeter  remonstrate  with 
Bedingfield  on  the  mean  state  of  the  household 
and  on  the  queen's  poor  attendance;  and  Sir 
Edmund  replied  that  he  must  even  obey  his 
orders,  and  that  as  for  state,  he  had  no  money, 
and  the  council  allowed  none  to  support  the 
princess  dowager. 

"Poor  lady!"  Exeter  said,  "there  is  little 
need  of  all  this  watch  and  ward;  if  I  be  not 
mistaken,  there  cometh  soon  a  guest  which 
no  bars  shall  keep  out  and  no  privy  council 
examine." 

"Ay,  so  it  looks,"  Bedingfield  replied,  "and 
yet  I  know  not ;  she  hath  been  ailing  long,  but 
seems  to  fight  her  malady  as  steadfastly  as  she 
did  the  divorce." 

"  A  gallant  heart,"  my  lord  of  Exeter  replied, 
"but  she  will  die.  Her  eye  looks  it  and  her 
dull  and  yellowish  hue  betrays  it.  'T  is  no 
place  here  either  to  stir  the  laggard  blood 
in  her  veins;  she  is  a  Spaniard,  and  this  sharp 


84  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

weather  suits  her  as  little  as  our  northern 
temperaments.  The  end  of  a  great  sorrow 
draweth  nigh." 

So  spoke  the  marquis,  and  Betty,  hearing 
him,  felt  a  chill  at  her  heart.  The  gloomy  life 
had  weighed  upon  her,  and  she  fell  often  into 
meditations  which  were  full  of  dim  foreboding. 
The  wizard's  tale  had  stolen  into  her  brain 
and  found  a  lodgment  there,  and  she  dreaded 
something,  what  she  knew  not.  Youth  is 
fanciful,  and  sees  either  a  flood  of  sunshine  on 
the  path  or  a  thick  cloud.  While  the  shadows 
without  lengthened  into  night,  Betty  sat  alone; 
and  then  there  was  a  soft  footfall  behind  her, 
and  Patience  came  to  summon  her  to  the 
queen.  Something  in  the  woman's  face  be 
trayed  that  the  call  was  unusual,  and  Mistress 
Carew  was  yet  more  surprised  when  she  found 
herself  alone  with  Catherine,  who  sat  propped 
up  in  her  chair,  a  rosary  in  her  hands  and  her 
black  mantilla  shading  her  features  even  more 
than  usual.  The  lights  were  so  arranged  that 
her  face  was  in  the  gloom,  and  it  was  impos 
sible  to  see  her  expression. 

"My  visitors  are  still  below,  as  I  hear,  Mis 
tress  Betty,"  she  said  quietly,  "and  I  would 
ask  you  to  do  an  errand  for  me.  Here  is  a 
little  packet  which,  I  pray  you,  give  my  lord 


MISTRESS  CAREW'S  ALLEGIANCE  85 

of  Exeter  from  the  queen.  These  gentlemen 
will  look  askance  at  my  own  poor  maids,  but 
you,  my  child,  are  in  favor  with  the  powers 
that  be." 

Betty  stood  a  moment  irresolute,  her  heart 
beating  high.  The  hour  had  come  for  her  to 
show  herself  worthy  of  her  uncle's  confidence. 
She  could  not  deceive  herself  about  the  packet ; 
it  was  the  same  which  the  wizard  had  let  fall 
a  few  weeks  before.  She  was  silent,  her  eyes 
downcast. 

"  What  ails  you,  mistress?"  cried  the  queen, 
sharply ;  "  have  you  no  tongue  to  answer  me  ?  " 

"Madam,"  replied  Betty,  her  tone  falter 
ing  ever  so  slightly,  "I  may  not  disobey  my 
instructions." 

"Your  instructions!"  repeated  Catherine, 
sternly;  "from  whom  —  and  when?" 

Mistress  Betty's  cheek  was  scarlet.  How 
could  she  speak  the  truth  to  this  injured 
woman,  although  the  truth  was  not  to  her  own 
discredit?  Her  embarrassment  carried  con 
viction  to  the  queen's  mind,  and  she  was 
passionately  incensed. 

"  So ! "  she  said,  in  her  coldest  and  most 
sarcastic  tone,  "the  dove  was  but  the  serpent  in 
disguise.  For  shame !  How  could  one  so 
young,  so  seeming  innocent,  become  a  tool  in 


86  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

the  hands  of  villains?  Had  you  no  woman's 
heart  that  you  could  spy  upon  and  betray  a 
woman  —  and  she  your  queen  ?  My  God !  the 
very  babes  and  sucklings  are  utterly  corrupted, 
vile  traitors  and  heretics!" 

"Madam,"  Betty  cried,  with  deep  resent 
ment,  "you  do  me  bitter  wrong!  I  am  no  spy, 
nor  would  my  uncle  have  sent  me  to  fill  so  foul 
an  office.  I  cannot  —  nay,  I  will  not  carry 
secret  missives  against  my  instructions!  That 
would  be  as  deep  a  treason  to  this  realm  as  it 
would  be  to  you  did  I  purpose  to  betray  you." 

"  You  say  '  I  will  not '  to  your  queen  ? " 
exclaimed  Catherine,  harshly;  "the  saints  bear 
witness  that  the  time  was  when  so  saucy  a 
tongue  would  have  been  treason.  It  is  well  to 
make  fine  protests,  wench,  but  't  will  be  long 
ere  you  find  one  so  foolish  as  to  credit  them." 

"For  that  there  is  no  help,  madam,"  Betty 
answered  firmly.  "  I  will  even  tell  you  the 
whole  truth ;  my  uncle  did  forbid  me  to  carry 
any  secret  missives,  or  to  meddle  with  these 
matters,  since  he  bade  me  remember  that  the 
safety  of  this  realm  was  a  greater  matter  than 
the  sorrows  of  one  woman,  albeit  she  is  a 
queen." 

"Is  a  queen!"  cried  Catherine,  catching  at 
the  words;  "thine  uncle  is  a  worthy  man  —  an 


MISTRESS   CAREWS  ALLEGIANCE  8/ 

honest  man.  I  am  still  a  queen,  it  seems, 
despite  the  universities  and  Cranmer!  Ah, 
well,  something  remains,  albeit  I  can  be 
insulted  by  a  little  wench  like  this  one." 

"  I  do  assure  your  grace,"  Betty  said,  "  that  I 
am  heartily  sorry.  I  would  gladly  do  any  ser 
vice  for  your  pleasure,  but  I  owe  also  much  to 
my  uncle;  I  would  not  lay  his  head  in  danger." 

The  queen  looked  at  her  a  moment  in 
silence;  something  in  the  sincerity  of  the 
young  girl's  tone  touched  her. 

"  Is  it,  then,  so  dangerous  to  serve  the  Queen 
of  England?  "  she  asked  in  a  strange  voice. 

"Madam,  the  Act  of  the  Succession,"  began 
Betty;  but  Catherine  cut  her  short. 

"Nay,"  she  said  sharply,  "speak  not  of 
these  things;  they  poison  me.  Go,  wench  !  I 
have  no  need  of  you  —  such  service  is  of  little 
pleasure  to  me." 

Angry,  yet  touched  and  wounded  by  the 
queen's  reproaches,  Betty  moved  to  the  door, 
but  there  she  paused  long  enough  to  speak 
once  more. 

"I  do  beseech  your  grace  to  believe  me," 
she  said  gently.  "  I  would  not  harm  a  hair  of 
your  royal  head  —  I  do  indeed  think  that  you 
are  despitefully  used,  the  deepest  sympathy  for 
your  wrongs  is  in  my  heart. " 


88  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"I  believe  you,  Mistress  Carew,"  the  queen 
replied,  after  a  pause,  "  but  those  that  be  not 
with  me  are  altogether  against  me.  I  am 
weary;  I  pray  you  leave  me.  Though  un 
crowned,  I  may  claim  so  much  obedience. 
When  you  are  older,  my  girl,  and  broken  in 
health  and  spirit,  I  pray  no  fairer  face  may 
steal  your  husband's  heart.  My  fate  is  not  so 
uncommon  that  it  should  isolate  me;  rather, 
think  I,  there  be  many  women  in  England  who 
should  weep  for  me  in  very  sympathy.  A 
man's  heart  is  like  a  ship  which  is  ever  prone 
to  slip  its  moorings;  look  well,  mistress,  when 
you  have  one,  that  it  is  stoutly  anchored." 

Deeply  disturbed  and  unhappy,  Betty  Carew 
left  the  queen's  room,  and  going  into  the  gal 
lery  beyond,  walked  to  and  fro.  There  was 
something  so  desolate  in  Catherine's  situation, 
and  so  merciless  were  her  enemies,  that  few 
women  could  have  looked  upon  her  with  in 
difference,  and  Betty's  heart  was  not  so  cold  as 
to  resist  the  appeal.  She  had  often  wavered 
in  her  allegiance  to  the  king's  party  since  her 
arrival  at  Kimbolton,  and  being  young,  was  far 
more  likely  to  be  led  by  her  sympathies  than 
her  reason.  Had  Catherine  possessed  in  a 
greater  degree  the  powers  of  attraction,  she 
might  have  won  the  young  girl  wholly  to  her 


MISTRESS  CAREW'S  ALLEGIANCE  89 

wishes ;  but  the  unhappy  queen  was  not  rich  in 
nature's  gifts  and  her  austerity  was  repellent, 
while  her  proud  reserve  in  some  degree  con 
cealed  the  depth  of  her  own  suffering. 

Moved  though  Betty  was,  she  could  not  bear 
the  packet  to  the  marquis  without  deliberately 
violating  her  pledges  to  her  uncle ;  and  bred  as 
she  had  been  under  the  new  influences  of  the 
changed  times,  she  had,  too,  a  horror  of  med 
dling  with  a  matter  which  she  knew  involved 
the  safety  of  the  realm,  threatened,  as  it  was, 
with  a  multitude  of  dangers.  While  she 
walked  in  the  gallery,  with  a  heart  full  of 
varied  emotions,  she  heard  the  trampling  of 
horses  below,  and  running  to  the  casement, 
saw  the  three  guests  riding  away,  and  knew 
that,  unless  the  queen  had  speedily  found 
another  messenger,  it  was  too  late. 

That  night  Catherine  was  very  ill,  or  so  her 
maids  gave  out,  and  for  two  days  afterwards  no 
one  saw  her  but  her  physician  and  her  three 
chosen  attendants.  Mistress  Betty  was  not 
summoned,  even  to  perform  any  small  office, 
and  it  touched  her  sharply  to  feel  how  deeply 
she  was  distrusted;  but  after  this,  there  was 
no  time  for  reflections,  for  events  hurried  one 
upon  another.  The  queen's  condition  could 
not  be  concealed,  and  reluctant  as  her  personal 


9O  THE  HOUSE   OF   77/£    WIZARD 

attendants  were  to  hold  intercourse  with  the 
royal  officers  of  the  household,  Bedingfield  was 
notified  of  the  danger  in  which  she  lay. 

On  New  Year's  Day,  at  about  six  o'clock, 
came  the  queen's  Spanish  maid  of  honor,  Lady 
Willoughby,  who  had  been  Donna  Maria  de 
Salines.  Beding-field  would  have  refused  her 
admittance,  since  she  had  no  warrant  from  the 
king,  but  she  pleaded  with  such  eloquence  the 
cold  and  her  fatigue  that  she  finally  gained 
her  will.  Once  with  Catherine,  the  Spanish 
woman  never  left  her,  but  administered  to  her 
comfort  to  the  end.  The  day  after  her  arrival 
came  also  Capucius,  the  emperor's  ambassador, 
bearing,  however,  the  king's  permission,  though 
he  was  not  allowed  to  see  the  dying  queen  save 
in  the  presence  of  the  royal  chamberlain. 
Bedingfield' s  vigilance  was  defeated,  however, 
for  Catherine  and  Capucius  spoke  to  each 
other  in  Spanish,  a  language  which  the  royal 
officer  understood  as  little  as  Hebrew. 

Like  a  gloomy  pageant,  scene  followed  scene 
in  this  sorrowful  drama.  The  weeping  maid  of 
honor,  the  stately  ambassador,  the  laments  of 
the  poor,  whom  Catherine  had  ever  treated 
with  sympathy  and  kindness,  —  all  these  things 
made  a  sad  impression  on  the  young  girl,  who 
was  a  reluctant  witness  of  the  gloomy  closing 


MISTRESS  CAREW'S  ALLEGIANCE         91 

of  a  tragic  life,  nor  was  she  to  escape  without 
one  more  trial.  It  was  after  Lady  Willough- 
by's  arrival,  and  Catherine  being  very  low, 
every  member  of  the  household  shared  in  the 
service  of  attendance.  Although  she  had  been 
tacitly  exiled  from  the  queen's  presence,  Betty 
was  now  called  upon  to  go  to  her  apartment,  and, 
Catherine's  attention  being  attracted  by  her 
entrance,  she  called  her  to  her  bedside.  The 
queen's  voice  was  firm,  although  her  face  bore 
the  unmistakable  signs  of  approaching  death. 

"Come  hither,  Mistress  Carew, "  she  said; 
and  as  Betty  obeyed  her  summons,  she  turned 
to  Lady  Willoughby,  who  stood  on  the  other 
side. 

"Maria,"  she  said,  "mark  you  this  maid? 
She  is  likely  to  go  to  court;  will  she  not  out 
shine  some  stars  at  Windsor?" 

Lady  Willoughby  glanced  in  surprise  from 
the  queen's  face  to  Betty's,  and  doubtless 
thinking  her  royal  mistress  wandering  in  mind, 
replied  gently  that  the  maiden  was  fair  enough 
surely  to  shine  in  any  court. 

"Hark  you,  my  girl,"  Catherine  said  to 
Betty,  a  rigid  sternness  in  her  face,  "  I  die  the 
Queen  of  England,  the  true  and  lawful  wife  of 
the  king's  grace.  Forget  it  not." 

She    paused,    and   there   was    no   response. 


92  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

Betty  Carew,  standing  beside  her  with  tears  in 
her  eyes,  had  no  words  to  answer  her,  and,  like 
Lady  Willoughby,  believed  that  her  mind 
wandered. 

"Kneel  down,"  said  the  queen,  solemnly; 
and  both  Betty  and  Donna  Maria  mechanically 
obeyed.  The  room  was  still,  a  dim  light  crept 
in  at  the  windows,  the  tapers  flared  behind  the 
dark  canopy  of  the  bed.  The  attendants  stood 
back  in  the  shadows.  Catherine  raised  herself 
a  little  on  her  pillows  and  lifted  her  hands, 
clasping  them  before  her;  her  eyes  shone  with 
a  strange  luster  in  the  deadly  whiteness  of  her 
face. 

"His  holiness  the  pope,"  she  said  in  a  clear 
voice,  "hath  declared  my  marriage  valid.  I 
am  the  wife  of  Henry,  King  of  England.  I  do 
call  upon  you  all  to  witness;  this  maid  also, 
who  is  not  of  us,  —  I  die  the  queen !  And  I  do 
solemnly  charge  you,  at  the  peril  of  your  souls, 
to  bear  in  mind  that  the  king  has  one  true  and 
legitimate  daughter,  the  Lady  Mary,  Princess 
Royal  of  England  and  heiress  to  the  throne." 

She  remained  a  moment  with  her  hands 
lifted,  her  face  growing  more  rigid.  There 
was  the  sound  of  suppressed  sobbing  in  the 
room.  The  queen's  arms  fell  heavily  and  she 
sank  back  in  a  deathlike  swoon. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE    KING'S    MESSENGERS 

THE  seventh  of  January  had  passed,  the 
Queen  of  England  had  been  carried  to  her 
last  resting-place  at  Peterborough  Abbey,  and 
that  other  Queen  of  England  rejoiced  at  Green 
wich.  The  knot  in  the  affairs  of  state,  which 
had  set  emperor  and  king  and  pope  at  variance, 
was  severed.  The  unhappy  woman,  whose 
troubles  had  shaken  a  throne,  would  hence 
forth  seek  only  the  crown  immortal.  She  was 
gone,  and  the  winter  sunlight  shone  brightly 
on  the  walls  of  Kimbolton,  as  if  to  exorcise 
the  phantoms  of  that  sorrow  which  had  broken 
a  royal  heart.  Within,  there  was  desolation  in 
those  rooms  where  the  queen  had  held  her 
little  levees,  and  which  now  seemed  peopled 
with  ghosts.  The  long  story  of  her  passionate 
struggle  to  maintain  her  own  and  her  daughter's 
claims  seemed  written  upon  the  walls.  Every 
footstep  echoed  sadly  in  the  vacant  galleries, 
every  corner  was  full  of  shadows.  Doors  stood 
open,  articles  of  wearing  apparel,  bits  of 


94  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

unfinished  embroidery  lay  on  the  floor,  tapers 
that  had  burned  low  and  sputtered  in  the 
sockets  left  a  forlorn  remnant  of  congealed  wax 
upon  the  candlesticks;  the  great  hearths  were 
gray  with  ashes  and  the  dead  logs  had  fallen 
from  the  fire-dogs.  The  chill  wind  swept 
down  the  chimneys,  roared  and  moaned  at  the 
casements,  shrieking  around  the  castle  as  if  to 
tear  its  way  within  and  sweep  away  the  last 
vestige  of  the  dead  woman's  presence.  She 
had  died  like  a  queen,  calmly  and  with  unfal 
tering  courage;  even  in  death  her  claim  to 
royalty  remained,  and  here  it  was  recognized; 
no  man  at  Kimbolton  thought  of  her  save  as 
the  queen. 

Her  household  was  on  the  point  of  dissolu 
tion.  The  king's  messengers  had  come  down 
from  London,  —  the  crown  lawyer,  Dr.  Rich, 
some  gentlemen  of  the  Privy  Council,  Sir 
William  Carew  and  Master  Simon  Raby,  — 
and  there  followed  much  stir  and  excitement. 
Catherine's  effects  were  being  examined,  her 
maids  separated,  her  servants  discharged. 
The  royal  officers  were  busied  with  many 
matters  and  were  peremptory  and  exacting; 
messengers  ran  to  and  fro,  the  courtyard  was 
full  of  horses,  the  hall  crowded  with  attendants. 
There  was  all  the  bustle  attendant  upon  the 


THE  KING'S  MESSENGERS  95 

final  breaking  up  of  such  an  establishment. 
On  one  side  were  the  pale  and  sorrowful  faces 
of  the  late  queen's  personal  followers,  who 
sincerely  mourned  the  loss  of  a  good  and  chari 
table  mistress;  on  the  other  were  the  hard, 
shrewd  countenances  of  the  king's  commis 
sioners,  intent  only  on  fulfilling  an  unpleasant 
duty,  and  not  a  little  relieved  that  the  cause 
of  so  much  dissension,  and  such  a  menace  to 
the  peace  of  the  realm,  was  finally  removed. 
It  was  a  curious  scene,  and  one  to  teach  a 
lesson  in  the  futility  of  all  earthly  ambitions, 
the  fleeting  pride  of  all  worldly  honors. 

In  a  window  recess  of  the  hall  stood  Mistress 
Carew,  cloaked  and  muffled  for  a  journey,  and 
at  her  side  was  Master  Raby.  The  two  stood 
looking  down  into  the  crowded  court  and  talking 
in  low  tones.  She  was  to  ride  with  her  uncle 
to  Greenwich  upon  some  errand, — what  she 
knew  not,  but  she  had  much  curiosity  to  learn, 
nursing  a  hope  that  she  was  to  have  a  glimpse 
of  the  court.  However,  she  kept  her  own 
counsel,  and  listened  with  a  serious  face  to  the 
talk  of  her  companion. 

"This  matter  has  been  a  grief  to  the  king's 
grace,"  he  said,  speaking  too  low  for  any  ears 
but  those  of  his  fair  auditor;  "I  would  not 
have  believed  that  he  could  be  so  moved  there- 


96  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

at.  'T  is  said  that  when  he  read  her  last  letter, 
he  wept  and  lamented  her." 

"  Do  men  always  weep  so  late  ? "  asked 
Mistress  Betty,  coldly,  her  bright  eyes  turning 
scornfully  upon  the  speaker;  "forsooth,  sir,  I 
would  rather  be  treated  with  more  kindness 
while  I  lived  than  so  lamented  in  death." 

Master  Raby  was  taken  by  surprise.  The 
sudden  sharpness  of  her  tone,  her  expressive 
glance,  came  after  a  passive  attitude  of 
attention. 

"And  so  would  I,"  he  said  heartily;  "yet 
surely,  mistress,  a  late  repentance  is  better 
than  none." 

"I  would  have  none  of  it,"  retorted  his  com 
panion,  with  disdain;  "had  I  been  treated  like 
this  queen,  I  would  never  have  written  so  lov 
ing  a  letter  to  the  king,  no,  not  I !  Poor  lady ! 
she  was  too  meek,  or,  perhaps,  too  good  a  Chris 
tian.  A  little  more  spirit  would  have  made 
him  mend  his  ways  in  time.  I  do  think  that 
never  was  a  woman  who  deserved  more  pity." 

"  There  are  some  who  would  call  your  speech 
treasonable,  Mistress  Carew,"  Raby  said,  but 
his  eyes  were  full  of  amusement  as  he  looked 
at  the  flushed,  angry  face  before  him;  "speak 
not  too  warmly  in  this  lady's  cause  before 
other  witnesses,  I  pray  you." 


THE  KING'S  MESSENGERS  97 

"Sir,  she  was  hardly  used,"  declared  Betty, 
stoutly ;  "  I  would  say  so  if  you  were  the  king's 
highness." 

"And  if  you  said  it  with  that  tone  and  look, 
I  do  wager  he  would  pardon  you,"  exclaimed 
the  other,  smiling;  "indeed,  I  believe  the 
king  has  known  some  hours  of  regret.  At 
least,  he  has  ordered  the  court  into  deep 
mourning;  but  the  queen  —  "  Raby  shrugged 
his  shoulders  and  laughed. 

"Queen  Anne  Boleyn?  What  of  her?" 
asked  the  young  girl,  a  certain  scorn  in  her 
fresh  voice. 

"  Queen  Anne  and  all  her  ladies  are  wearing 
yellow,"  Raby  said,  "and  a  curious  spectacle 
it  is.  They  do  say  she  has  remarked  that 
she  only  regretted  that  the  Lady  Catherine 
made  so  good  an  end." 

"'Tis  a  shame,"  cried  Betty;  "she  is  but  a 
harlequin  to  dress  so.  This  queen  was  a  good 
woman,  and  so  deserves  all  respect." 

"  It  is  reported  that  she  plotted  with  the 
Spaniards  against  this  realm,"  remarked  her 
companion,  watching  her  face. 

Mistress  Betty  flushed  rose- red;  the  thought 

of  the  hidden  packet  came  to  her  mind.     This 

charge  she  could  neither  parry  nor  deny,  but 

her  pity  for  the  dead  woman  outlived  heF  horror 

7 


98  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

of  treasonable  practices.  She  lifted  her  head 
haughtily. 

"  And  so  would  I,  if  I  had  been  born  a 
Spaniard  and  so  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the 
English,"  she  declared;  "it  was  only  human." 

At  this  Master  Raby  laughed  outright.  The 
dead  queen's  champion  was  irresistible  in  her 
youth  and  beauty  and  that  fearlessness  which 
was  her  birthright.  He  drew  her  out,  de 
lighted  at  the  frankness  and  spirit  of  her 
speech;  he  was  a  courtier,  sated,  too,  with  the 
follies  and  the  pleasures  of  that  gilded  life,  a 
much  admired  gallant,  a  favorite  with  the 
ladies  of  Queen  Anne,  but  here  was  a  fresh 
experience  and  he  found  it  irresistible.  Mean 
while,  Mistress  Betty,  whose  nature  was  cast 
in  a  sharper  outline,  who  saw  things  with  the 
uncompromising  eyes  of  youth,  scarcely  de 
tected  his  enjoyment  of  the  little  dialogue. 

"  Truly,  it  would  be  dangerous  to  offend  you, 
Mistress  Carew,"  he  said,  still  laughing  softly; 
"  but  take  you  no  thought  of  that  other  aspect 
of  the  affair?  The  peril  to  the  state,  the  sharp 
necessity  of  loyalty  when  the  kingdom  is  in 
peril,  and  the  Bishop  of  Rome  would  bring  us 
all  to  disaster  if  he  could.  Has  he  not  caused 
his  bulls  to  be  nailed  up  on  every  church  door 
in  Flanders,  and  held  us  up  as  a  legitimate  prey 


THE  KING'S  MESSENGERS  99 

for  the  faithful?  Was  it  not  wrong  for  this 
princess  who  had  been  a  queen  of  England  to 
desire  the  desolation  of  this  realm?" 

Betty  stood  a  moment  thinking,  biting  her 
lip  and  pressing  her  hands  together.  After  a 
moment  she  looked  up  into  Master  Raby's 
amused  eyes,  and  her  cheeks  burned. 

"I  believe  that  I  should  have  done  worse," 
she  cried,  "  if  any  one  had  dared  to  so  insult 
me." 

"  Happily,  Mistress  Carew,  no  man  would 
ever  attempt  it,"  said  her  companion,  softly; 
"your  face  is  too  fair  to  be  so  soon  forgotten. 
This  poor  lady  was  older  than  the  king  and 
never  handsome,  nor  did  his  grace  ever  love, 
her." 

"More  shame  to  him!"  said  Betty,  sharply; 
"she  was  his  wife." 

Master  Raby  laughed  again.  "Ah,  Mistress 
Carew,"  he  said,  "you  must  talk  with  my  lord 
of  Canterbury !  Must  a  man  love  a  woman 
because  she  is  his  wife  ? " 

Betty  gave  him  a  swift,  sidelong  glance. 
<(Sir,"  she  said  demurely,  "I  know  nothing  of 
a  man's  heart,  but  I  have  heard  that  it  is  like 
a  mirror  and  reflects  every  face  that  looks  in 
it,  only  that,  unlike  a  mirror,  you  may  never 
break  it." 


100  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"You  are  young  to  be  so  cruel,"  her  com 
panion  cried,  delighted,  "and  verily,  mistress, 
you  will  find  many  hearts  do  break  before  you 
make  one  blest." 

"You  are  a  courtier,  Master  Raby,"  she 
replied,  "and  have  a  readier  wit  than  mine,  but 
you  can  never  make  me  admire  the  woman  who 
broke  this  good  queen's  heart." 

"Nay, "he  answered  softly,  "it  is  you,  fair 
Mistress  Betty,  who  will  make  me  do  your 
bidding,  not  I  you." 

At  this,  she  blushed  the  color  of  a  fresh 
June  rose,  being  as  yet  unused  to  fine  speeches, 
and  Master  Raby  stood  looking  at  her,  think 
ing  her  fairer  than  any  beauty  of  the  court, 
when  Sir  William  Carew  came  up  and  cut  the 
conversation  short. 

"Come,  niece,"  he  said  briefly,  "we  ride  at 
once.  And  you,  Raby,  will  you  bear  us  com 
pany  or  no  ? " 

"I  thank  you,  yes,  Sir  William,"  he  replied 
with  alacrity ;  "all  is  in  readiness;  the  horses 
at  the  door,  and  my  man,  whom  you  admired 
so  much,  in  attendance." 

"The  knave  will  hang,"  rejoined  Carew, 
grimly.  "  Come,  Betty,  there  is  no  time  for 
fine  speeches  or  farewells.  I  must  set  out  for 
Greenwich  without  delay,  and  you  go  with  me. " 


THE  KING'S  MESSENGERS  IOI 

"Whither,  uncle?"  said  Betty,  quickly; 
"surely  not  to  the  court?" 

"And  wherefore  surely  not?"  asked  Sir 
William,  testily. 

"  I  know  not  what  you  will  do  with  me 
there,"  his  niece  said  softly. 

"You  go  to  the  queen's  grace,  my  girl," 
Carew  replied  grimly,  "  if  she  will  have  you." 

Master  Raby  smiled  and  glanced  at  Betty. 

"'Tis  come,  Mistress  Carew,"  he  whispered, 
as  he  helped  her  to  the  saddle.  "  I  pray  thee 
tell  the  king  thy  mind." 

"And  so  I  will,  if  he  asks  me,  Master 
Raby,"  declared  Betty,  with  spirit,  "and, 
mayhap,  it  will  do  him  good.  A  bitter  truth 
is  ofttimes  wholesome  medicine." 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE    MAN    WITH    A    SCAR 

IT  was  a  cold  and  dreary  night  in  London, 
and  through  the  mist  the  lights  of  the  inn 
blinked  like  great  yellow  eyes.  Within  the 
public  room  there  was  much  jovial  entertain 
ment.  It  was  well  filled  with  guests,  some 
drinking,  others  playing  at  dice,  and  a  few 
eating  belated  suppers.  It  was  an  establish 
ment  much  patronized  by  men  of  fashion,  and 
the  assembly  was  of  a  less  motley  character 
than  that  of  most  public  houses.  Two  or  three 
young  gentlemen  in  velvets  and  satins,  with 
ruffs  of  fine  lace  and  jewel-hilted  weapons, 
threw  dice  at  one  table,  while  at  another  sat  a 
stately  personage  in  black  velvet,  perusing 
some  parchments  with  the  assistance  of  a 
shrewd-faced,  deferential  companion,  the  one 
having  the  appearance  of  an  eminent  jurist  and 
the  other  being,  no  doubt,  his  clerk.  At  yet 
another  table  sat  some  travellers,  whose  fur- 
trimmed  garments  and  full  wallets  suggested 
wealthy  merchants.  Mine  host  bustled  about 
with  a  rubicund  and  smiling  countenance, 


THE  MAN   WITH  A   SCAR  103 

attended  by  several  servants  and  a  rosy-faced 
Hebe  bearing  the  wine  cups  and  glasses.  The 
innkeeper  had  the  air  of  one  who  felt  his 
pockets  filling  and  his  reputation  growing  at 
the  same  moment;  a  state  of  bliss  seldom 
attained  except  by  those  who  minister  to  the 
inner  man,  the  way  to  a  man's  purse,  as  well  as 
to  his  heart,  being  through  his  stomach.  There 
was  a  buzz  of  conversation,  the  rattle  of  dice, 
the  click  of  glasses,  but  it  was  yet  too  early 
for  the  potations  to  take  effect,  and  there  was 
perfect  decorum  upon  all  sides. 

Beyond  this  room,  which  was  for  public 
entertainment,  there  was  a  smaller  one,  open 
ing  into  it  by  a  low  door,  in  one  panel  of  which 
was  a  little  window,  a  mere  aperture,  and 
through  this  the  occupant  of  the  private  apart 
ment  might  survey  the  outer  room  with  slight 
risk  of  being  discovered,  — a  convenient  peep 
hole,  where  mine  host  could  spy  upon  his 
guests  at  pleasure.  It  was  a  small  place  and 
nearly  filled  by  a  table  and  two  chairs.  On 
opposite  sides  of  this  table  were  seated  now 
two  men  engaged  in  earnest  conversation. 
The  tapers  burning  between  them  shed  their 
light  on  the  faces  of  both.  To  the  right  sat  a 
little  man  clad  in  a  russet  cloak,  the  wizard 
Sanders;  on  the  left,  was  quite  a  different 


IO4  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

person.  The  stranger  was  tall  and  well  made, 
fully  forty  years  of  age,  and  with  a  face  that, 
while  it  was  handsome  in  a  coarse,  bold  fashion, 
was  also  rather  sinister  in  expression,  and  with 
a  sensual  mouth  and  chin.  He  was  very  dark, 
his  hair,  already  touched  with  gray  on  the 
temples,  accentuating  the  olive  tint  of  his  com 
plexion,  and  his  eyes  being  light  gray,  the 
effect  was  not  altogether  pleasing.  Yet  his 
features  were  fine  and  only  marred  by  the  scar 
of  a  sword-cut,  which  almost  obliterated  his 
left  eyebrow.  His  dress  was  of  the  richest, 
his  cloak  covered  with  gold  embroidery,  and 
the  green  satin  doublet  slashed  with  white 
brocade,  while  his  hands,  white  and  soft  as  a 
woman's,  were  jewelled.  His  embroidered 
gloves  lay  on  the  table  beside  his  rapier,  the 
hilt  of  which  was  beautiful  in  workmanship 
and  glistened  with  precious  stones.  He  sat 
with  his  elbow  on  the  table,  leaning  his  head 
upon  his  hand  and  listening  to  the  wizard,  who 
was  speaking  in  low  tones,  though  no  ear  could 
hear  him  but  his  companion's. 

"The  trump  card  is  gone,"  he  said  calmly, 
his  keen  eyes  watching  the  other  narrowly, 
"but  we  have  yet  the  Lady  Mary." 

"Tush!"  ejaculated  his  friend,  "what  of 
that?  'T  is  said  the  king  may  have  a  boy." 


THE  MAN  WITH  A   SCAR  105 

The  wizard  shook  his  head  with  a  slow 
smile. 

"Never,"  he  said  composedly.  "Henry  has 
ill  luck  with  his  men  children.  This  gay  lady 
is  falling  out  of  favor,  too;  another  star  riseth 
yonder." 

"Ay,  so  they  say,"  retorted  the  other, 
gloomily;  "but  the  change  is  like  to  bring  us 
small  comfort,  if  it  comes.  We  shall  have  no 
merry  time  until  we  get  the  base  blood  out 
of  the  council ;  yonder  hell-hound  tracks  us  by 
the  scent.  I  would  he  were  begging  again  at 
the  door  of  Master  Friskyball." 

"  Look  you,  Sir  Barton, "  rejoined  the  wizard, 
"my  lord  privy  seal  is  more  like  to  pull  you  by 
the  pate  than  you  him;"  and  Sanders  laughed 
with  wicked  amusement  as  he  eyed  his  listener. 
"  Bear  in  mind  the  fate  of  Ap  Ryce,  and  be  not 
too  forward.  Cromwell  is  beating  the  bush 
for  traitors,  and  if  he  finds  you,"  again  the 
little  man  laughed  unpleasantly,  "a  short 
shrift  and  your  head  would  grin  on  London 
Bridge." 

"And  if  it  does,  why,  curse  you,  so  shall 
yours,  you  evil  spirit ! "  Sir  Barton  cried  with 
a  fierce  outbreak  of  temper,  the  mocking  tone 
of  Sanders  having  struck  him  like  a  goad. 

"  Pshaw !  "  retorted  the  wizard,  coolly,  "  why 


106  THE  HOUSE  OF   THE    WIZARD 

fall  out  so  swiftly?  I  do  not  fear  you,  man,  or 
any  one.  Think  you  I  am  so  great  a  fool  as  to 
play  this  game  and  lose?  Who  was  it  that 
dealt  secretly  with  the  Nun  of  Kent?" 

He  was  watching  the  other  with  malicious 
enjoyment;  noting  the  start  of  amazement  and 
fear,  he  leaned  back  and  laughed  with  a  fiendish 
delight  that  enraged  the  dark  man  still  more. 

"You  are  a  fiend!"  Sir  Barton  said  be 
tween  his  set  teeth.  "  I  tell  you,  Sanders, 
if  you  betray  me,  I  will  send  you  to  the  devil 
before  you  can  grin  that  hellish  grin  of  yours 
twice." 

Undaunted  either  by  the  threats  or  the 
furious  aspect  of  the  man,  the  little  wizard 
laughed  with  apparently  intense  amusement. 

"Come,  come,  Sir  Barton,"  he  said  mock 
ingly,  "sit,  man;  'tis  not  in  your  horoscope 
that  you  should  murder  me.  I  find  you  use 
ful,"  he  added  in  a  changed  tone,  "and  you,  I 
believe,  have  found  me  so.  Waste  no  more 
threats  upon  me;  I  fear  you  as  little  as  the 
snake  that  I  keep  in  my  chamber,  and  whose 
fangs  I  drew  long  since,  although  he  is  still 
excellent  to  scare  women  and  children.  Save 
your  excessive  fury  until  such  time  as  the 
Spaniards  and  the  Irish  come  to  set  my  Lady 
Mary  on  the  throne,  when  we  shall  live  right 


THE  MAN   WITH  A   SCAR  IO/ 

merrily  again  and  this  same  king  shall  die  as 
did  the  man-queller  Richard." 

"  If  we  die  not  first  and  rot  for  our  part  in 
it,"  retorted  his  companion,  sullenly,  having 
recovered  his  composure. 

"You  are  not  wont  to  be  so  downcast,  Sir 
Barton,"  the  astrologer  remarked,  "nor  need 
be.  Cromwell's  new  notion  of  parish  registers 
is  working  for  us  among  the  vulgar;  they 
believe  it  but  a  design  to  find  the  means  of 
taxing  them,  and  that  they  shall  no  longer  eat 
white  meat  or  fowls  without  paying  dues  to 
the  king's  grace.  More  than  half  this  realm 
is  with  us ;  and  of  the  peers,  from  his  grace  of 
Norfolk  down,  I  think  they  love  not  the  new 
order  of  things,  nor  do  they  like  the  rule  of 
the  cloth-shearer's  son." 

"Ay,"  replied  his  companion,  "we  are  like 
to  have  Lord  Hussey  and  Darcy,  besides  the 
Nevilles  and  the  faction  of  the  White  Rose. 
'T  is  certain  we  can  raise  the  northern  counties 
when  the  time  is  ripe,  and  then,  the  devil  take 
me  if  I  be  not  the  first  to  thrust  a  sword  in 
Cromwell's  belly!"  He  rose  as  he  spoke  and 
took  up  his  weapon,  handling  it  as  if  he  loved 
the  thought  of  the  use  for  which  he  intended  it. 
"The  devil  is  very  like  to  have  thee,  friend," 
retorted  the  wizard,  smiling;  "but  hark!  what 


108  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

stir  is  that  without  ?     Some  new-comers  are  in 
the  courtyard." 

Sir  Barton  walked  to  the  door,  and  pushing 
back  the  slide  which  had  closed  the  window  in 
the  panel,  he  looked  into  the  public  room. 

"It  is  a  party  of  travellers,"  he  said  care 
lessly;  and  then  changing  his  tone,  "'tis  Sir 
William  Carew  of  Mohun's  Ottery,  that  young 
coxcomb  Raby,  and  a  woman  —  a  handsome  one 
at  that,"  he  added  with  an  oath. 

The  wizard,  who  was  watching  him  as  a  cat 
watches  a  mouse,  smiled  maliciously. 

"Is  it  a  young  maid?"  he  asked,  "tall  and 
fine-shaped  as  Diana,  with  red  cheeks  and 
great  brown  eyes  that  sparkle  and  change  at 
every  glance,  and  with  hair  like  the  raven's 
wing? " 

"You  have  made  a  fair  description,"  the  tall 
man  replied,  "but,  by  heaven,  you  cannot  do 
her  justice!  She  is  muffled  up,  but  I  saw  her 
face  as  she  came  in,  and  she  's  a  beauty." 

The  wizard  laughed  again  so  wickedly  that 
Sir  Barton  turned  on  him. 

"Thou  grinning  devil!"  he  said;  "what  is 
sticking  in  thy  gullet?" 

"'Tis  retribution,  sir,"  Sanders  said  coolly; 
"you  discarded  a  penniless  betrothed.  Penni 
less  she  is,  but  marvellous  fair." 


THE  MAN  WITH  A  SCAR  109 

An  expression  of  amazement  tinged  with 
superstitious  dread  came  over  his  companion's 
face. 

"  How  in  the  fiend's  name  do  you  track  men 
out?  "  he  asked. 

The  wizard  pointed  upward.  "The  stars, 
noble  sir,"  he  answered  meekly;  "my  poor 
art." 

"  Who  is  this  beauty  ?  "  Sir  Barton  demanded 
sharply;  "you  know  well  enough." 

"Ay,  I  know,"  replied  Sanders,  calmly; 
"no  velvet-tempered  kitten,  either.  'T  is  Sir 
William's  niece,  the  daughter  of  that  rake,  Sir 
Thomas." 

Sir  Barton,  uttering  an  exclamation  of  pro 
fane  surprise,  opened  the  door  and  walked  into 
the  public  room,  leaving  the  wizard  alone  in 
the  little  closet. 

Sir  William  Carew  was  talking  with  the 
host,  while  in  a  retired  corner,  near  the  en 
trance,  stood  Mistress  Betty,  and  beside  her, 
Master  Raby.  The  young  girl's  mantle  was 
muffled  about  her  shoulders,  but  her  hood  had 
fallen  back  a  little,  revealing  enough  of  the 
face  beneath  to  draw  the  attention  of  many  of 
the  guests.  But  she  was  so  busily  engaged  in 
talking  to  her  companion  that  she  was  uncon 
scious  of  the  admiring  glances  cast  in  her 


HO  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

direction.  A  servant  had  brought  some  hot 
drinks  for  the  party  and  would  have  set  a  table 
for  them,  but  this  Sir  William  refused,  saying 
that  he  was  pressed  for  time.  Sir  Barton 
walked  up  to  him,  to  be  received  in  no  very 
friendly  fashion,  Carew's  greeting  indicating 
plainly  that  he  desired  no  company  upon  the 
road.  After  an  ineffectual  attempt  at  conver 
sation,  the  other  drew  back  haughtily,  but 
stood  watching  Mistress  Betty,  until  the  per 
sistency  of  his  gaze  attracted  the  attention  of 
her  cavalier,  who  moved  between,  giving  the 
offender  a  hard  glance  that  was  intended  to 
teach  him  better  manners.  It  was  returned  in 
kind,  the  two  men  looking  defiance  at  each 
other  over  the  heads  of  those  who  sat  at  the 
tables.  In  a  few  moments,  however,  Sir 
William  led  his  party  out  again  to  resume 
their  journey.  As  Raby  helped  Betty  into  the 
saddle,  he  saw  the  tall  man  standing  on  the 
threshold  of  the  inn. 

"Your  uncle's  friend  must  needs  follow 
still,  Mistress  Carew,"  he  remarked;  "the 
impudent  knave  never  took  his  eyes  from  your 
face;  he  deserves  chastisement." 

Betty  laughed  softly.  "Nay,  sir,"  she  said 
in  an  amused  tone,  "  surely  the  curiosity  of  a 
stranger  is  no  great  offence. " 


THE  MAN  WITH  A  SCAR  1 1 1 

"  I  should  be  the  happier  for  laying  my  sword 
across  his  shoulders,  for  all  that,"  retorted  her 
companion. 

The  young  girl  glanced  at  the  dark  figure  on 
the  threshold  with  new  interest;  she  was  not 
without  enjoyment  of  the  admiration  that  she 
was  beginning  to  receive.  One  of  the  stable- 
boys  came  running  with  a  lighted  torch  to 
help  Sir  William  to  adjust  his  saddle.  Master 
Raby  bent  forward  and  took  Betty's  bridle- 
rein. 

"Let  me  guide  thy  beast,  Mistress  Carew," 
he  said. 

But  she  heard  him  not.  The  light  of  the 
torch  flared  full  on  the  figure  in  the  door. 
Even  through  the  mist,  which  hung  between 
like  a  thin  veil,  she  saw  the  glittering  dress, 
the  dark  face,  and  the  scar  across  the  left  eye 
brow. 

A  moment  afterwards,  Carew's  party  rode 
out  of  the  yard. 

"Uncle,  uncle,"  cried  Mistress  Betty,  in  a 
strange  voice,  "  who  was  yonder  dark  man  that 
spoke  with  you  ?  " 

"'Twas  Henge,  Sir  Barton  Henge, "  said 
Carew;  "  but  what  is  that  to  thee,  wench ?  " 


CHAPTER   X 

MISTRESS    BETTY    GOES    TO    COURT 

IT  was  an  hour  before  noon  and  the  gates  of 
Greenwich  palace  stood  open.  A  crowd  of 
attendants  and  gentlemen  ushers  were  as 
sembled  in  the  anterooms,  and  the  royal  guards 
lined  the  halls.  The  king  and  queen  were 
holding  a  levee,  and,  as  usual,  there  was  a 
great  concourse  of  people,  and  the  river  was 
dotted  with  barges,  wherries  and  all  sorts  of 
water-craft. 

Sir  William  Carew  had  just  landed  at  the 
water-stairs,  opposite  the  main  entrance,  and 
was  helping  his  niece  to  alight  from  the  boat. 
They  were  accompanied  by  Simon  Raby,  and 
all  three  were  dressed  in  the  elaborate  fashion 
of  the  court.  Sir  William's  suit  was  of  richer 
hue  and  finer  velvet  than  that  which  he  had 
worn  upon  the  road ;  his  cloak  was  shorter  and 
more  gayly  lined,  while  his  ruffles  were  of  the 
finest  lace.  The  younger  man  was  even  more 
richly  attired  in  maroon  velvet,  heavily  em 
broidered,  and  slashed  with  gold-colored  satin; 


MISTRESS  BETTY  GOES   TO    COURT      113 

and  he  had  a  face  and  figure  that  would  scarcely 
pass  unnoticed  in  any  garb.  But  neither  he 
nor  Sir  William  had  fully  realized  the  beauty 
of  their  young  companion  until  they  saw  her, 
no  longer  clad  in  mourning,  but  wearing  a 
rich  gown  that  her  uncle  had  provided  for  the 
occasion.  It  was  of  gray  velvet,  with  a  yoke 
of  rose-colored  satin  edged  with  fur,  the  inner 
sleeves  being  of  the  same  tint,  as  well  as  the 
facings  of  the  flowing  ones,  which  came  to  the 
elbow.  The  gray  velvet  skirt  was  looped  up 
on  one  side,  showing  a  farthingale  of  pink 
satin  trimmed  with  lace.  The  colors  and  the 
richness  of  the  costume  suited  well  her  glow 
ing  complexion  and  dark  hair,  and  she  made  a 
charming  picture.  As  they  passed  through 
the  crowded  anterooms,  she  attracted  universal 
attention,  but  moved  on  unconscious  of  it. 
The  painful  contrast  between  the  splendor  of 
these  lofty  rooms  and  the  dreary  ones  at 
Kimbolton  struck  her  generous  mind  with  its 
full  force.  Here  she  saw  gay  courtiers,  beau 
tiful  women,  and  all  the  magnificence  of  a 
court,  and  she  had  just  come  from  the  presence 
of  death.  Young  though  she  was,  she  had  too 
strong  a  character  to  be  moved  to  forgetfulness 
by  the  brilliance  of  the  change.  Catherine 
had  not  won  her  affection,  but  she  had  inspired 
8 


114  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

her  with  a  feeling  of  profound  sympathy. 
There  was  another  shadow  also  on  the  mood  of 
Mistress  Betty;  the  wizard's  strange  statement 
had  haunted  her  secret  thoughts  ever  since 
it  was  made,  and  the  sight  of  the  scarred 
stranger  at  the  tavern  disquieted  her.  Again 
and  again  she  told  herself  it  was  but  folly,  yet 
she  could  not  put  it  from  her  mind ;  and  she 
was  strangely  depressed  as  she  walked  beside 
her  uncle  through  the  crowd  of  courtiers,  who 
gave  place  only  to  gaze  again  at  the  lovely  face 
and  erect  form  of  the  young  girl.  Behind  her 
came  Master  Raby,  secretly  admiring  her  and 
comparing  her  fresh  beauty  with  the  charms  of 
the  gay  dames  who  smiled  at  him  as  he  passed. 
At  the  entrance  to  the  presence-chamber,  they 
were  halted  by  the  usher;  but  only  for  a 
moment,  a  few  words  from  Carew  gaining 
them  admittance.  The  room  opened  into  the 
gallery  with  great  folding-doors,  and  through 
these  the  little  party  passed  and  found  them 
selves  in  a  lofty  apartment  beyond.  To  Betty, 
the  splendid  gayety  of  the  scene  was  almost 
bewildering,  and  she  paused  a  moment  on  the 
threshold,  looking  about  her  with  perfect  un 
consciousness  of  the  attention  that  she  imme 
diately  attracted.  The  appearance  of  so 
beautiful  a  young  woman  standing  almost 


MISTRESS  BETTY  GOES   TO   COURT      115 

alone  in  the  doorway  created  in  a  moment  a 
little  sensation. 

The  room  was  crowded  with  lords  and  gentle 
men,  peers  and  peeresses;  the  glitter  of  gold, 
the  sheen  of  satin  and  brocade,  the  sparkle  of 
jewels,  made  a  scene  of  varied  beauty.  Here 
were  handsome  men  and  the  loveliest  of  Eng 
land's  women;  on  one  side  stood  the  stately 
figure  of  a  prelate,  on  the  other  some  foreign 
ambassador;  here  was  a  gay  court  gallant, 
yonder  a  reverend  sage.  Not  far  from  the 
door  stood  the  king  surrounded  by  his  favored 
nobles.  He  was,  at  this  time,  growing  very 
stout,  but  still  retained  much  of  the  fine  ap 
pearance  of  his  earlier  manhood.  His  dress  of 
velvet  and  brocade  was  rich  with  gold  embroi 
dery  and  his  breast  sparkled  with  jewels.  His 
great  size  and  the  natural  majesty  of  his  bear 
ing  made  him  an  imposing  figure,  but  he  pos 
sessed  a  frank  and  cordial  address  which  won 
him  many  friends,  even  in  those  days  of  treason 
and  discontent.  Beyond  him,  almost  in  the 
center  of  the  room,  was  Queen  Anne  Boleyn. 

Mistress  Betty  had  but  one  thought,  and 
that  was  of  this  queen;  and  as  soon  as  she  had 
made  her  curtsy  to  the  king,  she  passed  on  to 
greet  Anne,  with  feelings  of  mingled  curiosity 
and  resentment  for  the  sake  of  the  dead 


Il6  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

Catherine.  Anne  Boleyn  was  standing  in  the 
midst  of  her  ladies,  and  yellow  was  the  prevail 
ing  color  of  their  costumes.  The  queen,  a 
young  and  beautiful  woman,  appeared  as  lovely 
as  ever  even  in  that  hour  of  unwomanly  triumph. 
The  perfect  oval  of  her  face,  the  brilliance  of 
her  eyes  and  the  beauty  of  her  complexion  had 
made  her  the  star  of  Catherine's  court,  and 
she  was  still  lovely,  although  it  seemed  to 
many  that  she  looked  both  ill  and  disturbed. 
She  was  dressed  in  yellow  brocade  with  a  train 
of  cloth  of  gold  trimmed  with  ermine,  a  coro 
net  of  jewels  resting  on  her  flowing  curls,  for 
she  wore  her  hair  frequently  falling  loose  over 
her  shoulders.  She  knew  that  Betty  Carew 
had  been  in  attendance  at  Kimbolton,  and  re 
ceived  her  coldly,  although  with  courtesy,  as 
if  she  was  at  once  displeased  at  the  thought 
of  her  late  service,  and  willing  to  win  her  to 
her  own  cause. 

The  presentation  was  over  in  a  few  moments 
and  Betty  was  led  out  of  the  royal  circle  by 
her  uncle,  who  conducted  her  to  the  other  side 
of  the  room.  He  took  her  to  a  group  by  one 
of  the  windows,  and  Betty  found  that  he  was 
introducing  her  to  some  stranger  before  she 
had  yet  put  the  queen  from  her  thoughts. 

"My  Lady  Crabtree,"  he  said,  "this  is  the 


MISTRESS  BETTY  GOES   TO   COURT      II J 

niece  of  whom  I  wrote  you.  Will  you  take 
so  great  a  charge,  albeit  not  an  uncomely 
one  ?  " 

"Thou  art  a  fool,  William,"  retorted  a  sharp 
voice,  "to  bring  the  wench  hither." 

Betty  Carew  looked  up  in  amazement  and 
saw  an  old  woman  standing  by  her  uncle;  a 
woman,  but  one  with  so  manly  an  air  that  the 
young  girl  was  not  a  little  amused.  Lady 
Crabtree  was  tall  and  broad-shouldered,  with  a 
large  waist  and  a  flat  chest,  being  one  of  those 
women  whose  figures  are  flattened  out,  with  a 
great  width  from  side  to  side.  She  had  a  mas 
culine  face  with  a  large,  hooked  nose  and  keen 
black  eyes;  the  face  of  a  woman  who  had 
inherited  not  only  her  father's  traits  of  charac 
ter,  but  his  full  set  of  features,  even  to  the 
strong,  broad  teeth.  Her  snow-white  hair  was 
put  back  under  a  large  and  ugly  headdress,  and 
her  garments,  though  rich,  were  neither  stylish 
nor  elegant;  and  though  an  old  woman,  it  was 
apparent  that  she  would  have  been  more  at  ease 
in  doublet  and  hose  than  in  a  farthingale.  She 
was  regarding  Betty  with  a  shrewd  but  not 
unkindly  glance,  which  seemed  to  comprehend 
not  only  the  girl's  great  beauty,  but  also  her 
present  frame  of  mind. 

"What  is  thy  name,    child?"  this  singular 


Il8  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

person  asked ;  "  Carew,  I  know,  forsooth,  but 
it  must  have  a  handle  to  it." 

"My  name  is  Betty  Carew,"  the  young  girl 
answered,  smiling,  "and  I  trust  I  may  not  make 
my  uncle  sorry  for  bringing  me  to  Greenwich." 

"If  you  do  not,  Mistress  Betty,  it  will  not 
be  the  fault  of  your  face,"  retorted  Lady  Crab- 
tree,  calmly.  "  What  say  you,  Mistress  Wyatt, 
is  not  my  cousin  Carew  a  fool  to  bring  such 
wares  to  such  a  market  ?  " 

At  this,  Betty's  face  flushed  crimson,  and 
she  raised  her  head  haughtily,  but  before  she 
could  speak,  a  richly  gowned  gentlewoman,  who 
stood  beside  her  new  acquaintance,  replied. 

"Nay,  Lady  Crabtree,"  she  said,  smiling, 
"Sir  William  has  shown  his  usual  discretion 
and  kindness  to  bring  his  niece  to  see  the 
world,  and  I  am  sure  that  so  discreet  a  maid 
will  take  no  harm  from  the  contact." 

"You  are  a  liar,  Wyatt,"  the  old  woman 
retorted,  laughing ;  "  that  is  why  I  love  you. 
To  know  how  to  lie  gracefully,  and  at  the  right 
moment,  is  one  of  the  most  charming  accom 
plishments  and  one  of  the  rarest,  albeit  lying 
is  more  frequent  than  dying.  There  is  the 
substance  of  a  couplet  for  one  of  the  court 
singers;  I  was  born  a  poet,  but  am  like  to  die 
unknown  for  such.  Well,  William,"  she 


MISTRESS  BETTY  GOES   TO   COURT      119 

added,  turning  again  to  Carew,  "this  wench  is 
to  be  my  charge,  then  ?  " 

"Ay,  if  you  will  have  her,  madam,"  he 
answered;  "for  a  while,  at  least.  They  want 
her  at  court,  and  I  can  scarcely  make  her  a 
charge  of  any  one  more  fit  to  guard  her  than 
my  Lady  Crabtree. " 

"I  am  a  dragon  then,  William,"  the  old 
woman  said,  with  her  queer  smile,  which  was 
not  mirthful;  "so  be  it.  I  will  take  care  that 
no  wolf  shall  chew  up  this  lamb.  She  shall 
have  good  watching,  though  I  think  the  wench 
is  no  fool." 

"Madam,"  said  Betty,  coldly,  "I  come  here 
only  at  my  uncle's  will;  I  would  rather,  and  it 
pleased  him,  stay  at  Mohun's  Ottery. " 

"  It  would  please  me  well  enough,  fair 
niece,"  Carew  answered  gravely,  "but  there 
be  others,  and  I  would  fain  do  my  duty  by  you 
and  them.  Therefore  you  will  stay  with  my 
good  cousin,  Lady  Crabtree,  until  I  see  fit  to 
take  you  home. " 

Mistress  Betty  bit  her  lip.  This  settled  the 
matter  for  her,  but  it  wounded  her  pride  to  be 
a  dependent  on  her  uncle's  bounty  and  be 
tossed  about  at  his  will.  Nor  did  her  new 
guardian  attract  her.  However,  she  could 
only  submit  to  fate,  and  she  was  compelled  to 


I2O  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

remain  standing  by  Lady  Crabtree  while  Sir 
William  mingled  with  the  company,  where  he 
found  many  acquaintances. 

"Do  not  take  it  to  heart,  wench,"  the  old 
woman  remarked,  her  shrewd  eyes  detecting 
Betty's  sensations;  "you  will  love  this  place 
too  well  erelong  to  leave  it.  'Tis  no  spot  for 
any  girl  to  mope  in,  and  you  are  not  of  the 
moping  kind,  I  think.  Dost  know  any  of  the 
great  people  here  to-day  ? " 

"None  but  the  king  and  queen,"  Betty 
replied,  turning  her  eyes  upon  the  gay  scene, 
which  was  almost  bewildering  to  one  who  had 
lived  the  retired  life  that  she  had. 

"Poor  child!  'tis  dull  to  know  so  little  of 
the  great  folk  here,"  said  Mrs.  Wyatt,  who 
still  stood  by  Lady  Crabtree;  "yonder  is  my 
lord  of  Canterbury,  and  beside  him,  Master 
Latimer,  whom  the  queen  has  made  Bishop  of 
Worcester.  Ay,  the  queen,"  she  repeated,  in  re 
ply  to  Betty's  questioning  glance;  "he  was  her 
grace's  chaplain,  and  she  so  wrought  upon  the 
king  that  he  is  a  bishop;  and  because  he  spoke 
hard  truth  to  her.  And  that  goodly  youth  to 
the  left  there  is  his  grace  of  Richmond." 

"Ay,  and  'tis  a  pity  that  the  king  can  get 
no  other  son  so  fair,"  said  Lady  Crabtree, 
sharply;  "  't  is  a  punishment." 


MISTRESS  BETTY  GOES   TO   COURT      121 

"  How  can  you  tell  what  may  happen  in  a  short 
while?"  retorted  Mrs.  Wyatt,  with  emphasis. 

"No  boy,"  said  the  old  woman,  calmly;  "if 
we  have  much  more  ill  luck,  't  will  be  the 
King  of  Scots." 

"They  will  nab  thee  as  a  traitor  yet,  if  thy 
tongue  wags  so  free,  my  lady,"  said  Mrs. 
Wyatt,  with  a  startled  glance  about  her;  but 
her  odd  companion  only  laughed  grimly. 

"Look  there,  Mistress  Betty,"  she  added  in 
a  moment;  "'tis  our  relative,  the  master  of 
horse,  Nicholas  Carew,  and  yonder  is  his  grace 
of  Exeter  and  that  pretty  boy,  Courtenay. 
What  would  you  say,  Mistress  Wyatt,  if  I 
prophesied  that  he  would  be  a  king  of 
England?" 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  madam,  or  surely  you 
will  lose  your  ears,"  replied  Mrs.  Wyatt,  but 
smiled  at  her  companion's  manner. 

"  They  can  but  roast  me  at  the  best,  as  they 
did  the  poor  folks  from  Holland  who  held  such 
queer  notions,  which  were  doubtless  no  better 
or  sounder  for  the  cooking,"  returned  Lady 
Crabtree,  laughing  harshly.  "  Look  you, 
Wyatt,  they  would  have  treated  Latimer  as 
they  did  these  Anabaptists,  and  now  he  is  a 
bishop.  Presently  they  will  make  me  a  duchess 
for  my  sound  policy." 


122  THE   HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

Mrs.  Wyatt,  however,  did  not  heed  her;  she 
was  looking  eagerly  at  a  group  across  the 
room. 

"There  is  Jane  Seymour,"  she  said  quickly, 
"and  she  is  radiant  to-day." 

"And  will  be  more  so  presently,"  remarked 
the  old  woman,  calmly;  "my  lord  of  Canter 
bury  can  make  this  matter  straight,  and  the 
Bishop  of  Rome  will  nail  no  bull  upon  the 
doors  of  Flemish  churches." 

"I  pray  you  speak  less  idly,  madam,"  Mrs. 
Wyatt  said,  offended;  "I  love  the  queen's 
grace,  as  you  know." 

"And  so  do  I,"  exclaimed  Lady  Crabtree; 
and  then  aside  to  Betty,  "Mistress  Wyatt  is  a 
fool,  my  girl ;  yonder  beauty,  Jane  Seymour,  is 
like  to  be  a  queen,  and  I  mistake  not.  Mercy 
on  us !  can  you  look  for  such  faithfulness  in 
the  king's  grace  when  other  men  be  weather 
cocks  ? " 

As  she  spoke,  there  was  a  movement  in  the 
group  near  by;  it  separated,  and  the  stranger 
of  the  inn  came  up  to  where  Betty  and  her 
strange  chaperon  were  standing.  He  bowed 
low  over  Lady  Crabtree' s  hand,  speaking  a 
few  words  to  her  in  an  undertone. 

"  "T  is  my  cousin's  niece,"  the  old  woman 
replied  in  her  outspoken  way.  "Mistress 


MISTRESS  BETTY  GOES   TO   COURT      123 

Betty  Carew,  here  is  a  gentleman  who 
craves  to  be  presented  to  you:  Sir  Barton 
Henge." 

Although  the  tall  stranger  turned  to  her 
with  a  smile  upon  his  handsome  dark  face, 
Betty  felt  an  instinctive  repulsion.  As  she 
made  him  a  curtsy  in  response  to  his  profound 
bow,  she  looked  up,  and  saw  behind  him  Simon 
Raby.  In  an  instant  relief  and  welcome  leaped 
into  her  eyes,  and  Henge  seeing  it,  turned 
sharply  to  confront  the  other  man,  and  both 
looked  defiance  at  each  other. 

"Sir,  you  jostled  me,"  Henge  said 
haughtily. 

"You  crowded  in  my  way,"  replied  Raby, 
with  disdain;  "give  place,  I  am  a  friend  of 
this  lady's!" 

"Find  room  as  you  may,"  retorted  Henge, 
sharply;  "I  will  not  budge  an  inch." 

"Until  I  make  you,"  said  Raby,  coldly. 
"  You  choose  a  strange  place  for  a  brawl,  sir, 
but  't  is  worthy  of  you." 

"Upon  my  word,  this  is  fine  talk  in  the 
king's  presence!"  exclaimed  old  Lady  Crab- 
tree,  laughing  bitterly;  "have  done,  I  will 
have  none  of  this!  'T  is  too  soon  to  quarrel 
for  a  child's  pretty  face.  Master  Raby,  con 
duct  my  ward  out  of  this  crowded  spot ;  and 


124  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

you,  Sir  Barton,  stay  with  me;  I  would  speak 
with  you." 

Passing  Henge  with  a  cold  look  of  con 
tempt,  Simon  Raby  took  Betty  away  across  the 
room,  and  then  the  strange  old  woman  turned 
upon  her  companion,  who  stood  scowling. 

"Look  you,  Sir  Barton,"  she  said  in  her 
hard  tone  of  command ;  "  I  know  you  well  and  I 
will  have  no  sword-thrusts  with  yonder  boy." 

"  That  young  rake  —  "  began  Henge,  fiercely. 

"And  what  are  you,  sir?"  she  exclaimed, 
and  laughed  so  harshly  that  even  he  winced  a 
little.  "  Listen  to  me,  Henge;  this  beauty  — 
this  young  Mistress  Carevv  —  is  penniless,  and 
will  have  none  of  my  wealth  either.  You  want 
no  such  lady  love  as  this,  and  need  make  no 
wry  faces  about  it.  If  you  behave  as  becomes 
your  birth  and  station,  you  may  even  come  and 
go  at  pleasure  in  my  house,  where,  I  think, 
you  would  come  if  you  could.  But  hark  ye, 
Barton;  if  I  catch  you  at  any  of  your  devil 
tricks,  I  '11  have  your  ears  off.  Nay,  scowl 
not,  man;  an  old  woman  like  me  has  naught  to 
fear  from  you,  and  I  know  too  much  for  you  to 
brave  me.  Ah,  I  thought  I  saw  you  wince. 
Farewell,  sir;  here  comes  his  grace  of  Suffolk, 
and  'twould  kill  me  if  I  could  not  ask  him  to 
weep  with  me  for  the  princess  dowager;  'tis 


MISTRESS  BETTY  GOES   TO   COURT      12$ 

evident  his  grief  sets  well  upon  his  stomach;" 
and  she  turned  to  greet  the  nobleman  with  a 
grim  smile  of  enjoyment  in  the  prospect. 

Meanwhile  Sir  Barton  Henge  stood  discom 
fited,  staring  across  the  room  at  Betty  and  her 
cavalier  with  a  face  of  fury.  A  man  of  violent 
temper,  his  first  impulse  was  to  engage  in  an 
open  brawl,  but  his  better  judgment  told  him 
that  an  attempt  to  chastise  Raby  for  his  inso 
lence  would  only  end  in  his  own  arrest  in  the 
king's  presence.  So  he  was  forced  to  content 
himself  with  the  reflection  that  when  a  better 
opportunity  presented  itself,  he  would  make 
good  use  of  it. 

Across  the  room  Master  Raby  had  forgotten 
him  in  looking  at  the  fair  face  of  Mistress 
Betty,  for  't  is  love  that  makes  the  world  go 
round. 


CHAPTER   XI 

OLD    MADAM    AT    HOME 

THUS  a  great  change  came  into  Betty  Carew's 
life.  After  her  introduction  to  the  court  at 
Greenwich,  Sir  William  formally  placed  her 
in  the  charge  of  his  eccentric  relative  and  went 
back  alone  to  Mohun's  Ottery.  The  young 
girl,  left  thus  among  strangers,  endeavored  to 
adapt  herself  to  their  ways  as  she  had  before 
taken  up  existence  at  her  uncle's  house.  Deep 
in  her  heart  were  hidden  wounded  pride  and  a 
feeling  of  desolation.  She  was  poor  and  felt 
herself  but  a  toy  in  the  hands  of  her  wealthier 
relations,  and  she  was  alone  amidst  a  throng  of 
strangers.  She  had  not  a  nature  which  re 
pines;  the  harder  elements  of  resolution  and 
reserve  grew  faster  in  her  heart  than  impulses 
of  love  and  happiness.  She  found  her  new  life 
far  more  full  of  interest  and  event  than  any  she 
had  ever  known.  Her  guardian  was  so  strange 
and  active  an  old  woman  that  she  alone  fur 
nished  no  little  entertainment  to  an  observer. 
My  Lady  Wildrick  Crabtree,  as  she  was 


OLD  MADAM  AT  HOME  I2/ 

called,  was  the  daughter  of  Lord  Wildrick  of 
Wildrick  Hall  at  Deptford;  her  Christian 
name  was  Zenobia,  but  she  was  rarely  called 
by  it.  She  married,  late  in  life,  Lord  Crab- 
tree,  who  promptly  died,  as  the  husbands  of 
such  women  always  do.  He  was  poor,  but 
from  her  father  Lady  Crabtree  inherited  a 
large  property,  as  she  was  an  only  child.  It 
had  been  said  of  her  mother  that,  having  borne 
Zenobia,  she  could  do  no  more  in  this  world  or 
the  next.  Yet  Lady  Crabtree  was  a  woman  of 
strong  intellect,  keen  wit,  and  an  untiring 
energy,  and  was  more  sought  after  than  any 
woman  of  her  age  in  London.  Every  man's 
business  was  her  business;  she  knew  all  the 
gossip  of  the  court;  she  knew  all  the  miseries 
of  the  poor,  and  she  was  quick  to  right  a 
wrong  and  to  take  up  the  cause  of  the  op 
pressed.  She  could  be  in  the  saddle  all  day 
and  show  no  fatigue,  although  she  had  passed 
seventy-five ;  a  litter  was  ever  scorned  by  her, 
and  she  walked  miles  through  the  muddy  roads 
to  aid  the  sick  or  destitute.  Time  she  counted 
as  of  great  value ;  no  hour  could  be  wasted ; 
and  so  as  to  be  out  early  in  the  morning,  it 
was  no  uncommon  thing  for  her  to  have  her 
tirewoman  arrange  her  white  hair,  of  which 
she  had  a  quantity,  over  night.  At  such 


128  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

seasons,  her  ladyship  slept  with  her  head 
propped  up,  that  the  great  superstructure  might 
not  be  injured.  Her  boots  were  all  made 
heavy  and  clumsy,  after  the  fashion  of  those 
worn  by  men,  and  her  feet  being  large,  she  had 
the  tread  of  a  man.  The  strength  of  her  wrist 
and  fist  had  been  rated  high,  since  she  knocked 
down  the  largest  man  upon  the  street  in  a 
group  that  laughed  at  her  mannish  stride.  A 
valiant  protector  she  was  for  any  young  woman, 
and  as  she  came  to  know  Mistress  Betty,  she 
took  a  fancy  to  her,  so  that  this  strangely 
assorted  couple  lived  very  peacefully  together. 
In  the  early  part  of  February,  when  Queen 
Anne's  illness  cast  a  gloom  over  the  court, 
Lady  Crabtree  retired  for  a  while  to  her  house 
at  Deptford,  where  she  held  a  little  court  of 
her  own.  Wildrick  Hall  was  a  great  house  of 
stone,  built  by  the  Normans  and  prepared  for 
defence,  its  battlements  being  heavy  and  its 
windows  little  more  than  arrow-headed  slits  in 
the  thick  walls.  Within,  the  household  was 
like  that  of  Mohun's  Ottery,  upon  a  smaller 
scale,  and  many  people  were  daily  fed  under 
the  hospitable  roof.  The  old  gentlewoman 
ruling  with  a  rod  of  iron,  and  knowing  well 
every  detail  of  the  house,  from  the  kitchen  to 
the  banquet  hall,  was  something  of  a  terror  to 


OLD  MADAM  AT  HOME  129 

her  servants  and  attendants.  In  her  own 
domain  she  was  judge  and  jury,  and  no  man 
dared  gainsay  her  will;  while  she  drove  the 
women  like  a  flock  of  startled  chickens  cack 
ling  as  they  fled  pell-mell  before  my  lady's 
tongue,  a  scourge  which  she  was  quick  to 
supplement  with  a  blow.  She  was  full  of  great 
oaths  as  any  man,  and  knew  how  to  hurl  them 
at  the  ears  of  an  offender;  yet  she  had,  too,  a 
large  sympathy  for  the  unfortunate  and  a  keen 
judgment  of  men.  In  this  household  Mistress 
Carew,  finding  her  place  beside  its  mistress, 
was  often  diverted  by  her  strange  ways.  Al 
though  there  were  always  many  guests,  it  often 
happened  that  these  two  ate  together,  while  at 
the  lower  end  of  the  large  hall  were  long  tables 
for  the  others. 

One  wintry  day,  early  in  February,  Lady 
Crabtree  and  Betty  sat  at  breakfast  It  was 
seven  in  the  morning,  my  lady's  hour  for 
breaking  her  fast,  and  all  the  tables  were  set 
with  tapers  which  flared  in  the  gloom,  only  a 
little  light  creeping  in  through  the  narrow 
windows.  Betty's  fresh  face  and  brilliant 
coloring  made  a  sharp  contrast  to  the  hook 
nosed,  strong  countenance  of  the  old  woman, 
whose  white  hair,  dressed  over  night,  was 
nearly  concealed  by  a  great  coif  of  yellow 

9 


I3O  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

velvet.  She  wore  a  gown  of  gay  brocade,  the 
tight  body,  full  sleeves,  and  huge  farthingale 
being  in  the  style  first  introduced  by  Queen 
Catherine.  At  her  waist,  on  one  side,  hung  a 
heavy  bunch  of  keys,  and  on  the  other  she 
wore  a  dagger.  A  fur-lined  mantle  was  thrown 
over  her  shoulders,  and  was  needed,  for  the 
sharp  wind  poured  in  at  many  crevices  and 
swept  through  the  hall  in  gusts.  She  was  a 
marvellous  figure,  her  spreading  skirts,  full 
sleeves,  and  huge  headdress  making  her  seem 
twice  her  natural  size,  which  was  above  that  of 
woman.  She  performed  her  trencher  duties 
like  a  man,  and  a  hungry  one,  On  the  table 
was  set  a  chine  of  beef,  and  with  this,  for  the 
two  women,  a  quart  of  ale  and  a  pint  of  wine 
with  a  square  loaf  of  bread.  It  was  well  known 
that  the  salting  tubs  were  numerous  at  Wil- 
drick  Hall  at  Michaelmas,  and  the  stores  of 
beef  and  mutton  as  great  as  any  in  the  land ; 
for  my  lady  was  one  who  lived  well  and  drank 
well,  as  her  father  had  before  her,  and  ever 
quarrelled  with  the  statute  of  the  third  Edward, 
which  regulated  the  diet  of  both  rich  and 
poor.  No  man  should  be  served  "with  more 
than  two  courses,"  said  the  law,  "and  each 
mess  of  two  sorts  of  victuals  at  the  utmost, 
be  it  flesh  or  fish,  with  the  common  sorts  of 


OLD  MADAM  A  T  HOME  1 3  I 

pottage,  without  sauce  or  any  other  sorts  of 
victuals." 

My  Lady  Crabtree  had  received  a  letter  from 
Mrs.  Wyatt  the  previous  day,  and  she  read 
from  it  to  Betty  as  she  ate  her  breakfast,  mak 
ing  her  own  comments  upon  it  in  her  usual 
fashion. 

"  The  queen  recovers  slowly  from  her  illness 
and  is  in  sore  distress  of  mind  at  the  loss  of 
her  boy,  so  says  Mistress  Wyatt,"  remarked 
the  old  woman;  "like  enough,  there  be  other 
causes  for  her  sorrow  and  rumors  be  true." 

"You  mean  the  king's  fancy  is  caught  by 
another?"  asked  Betty,  quietly. 

"Ay,  that  is  the  talk,"  Lady  Crabtree  re 
joined.  "Wyatt  is  too  close  to  the  queen  to 
speak  of  it,  but  I  have  my  information  from  a 
sure  hand.  They  do  say  that  my  Lady  Anne 
surprised  him  making  love  to  the  little  Sey 
mour.  The  queen  came  suddenly  upon  them ; 
Jane  sat  on  the  king's  knee,  looking  as  demure 
as  ever.  'T  is  said  this  brought  Anne  to  her 
present  case ;  and  that  the  king's  grace  is  furious 
at  the  loss  of  a  boy." 

"I  wonder  if  she  —  the  queen  —  thinks  now 
of  Queen  Catherine,"  remarked  Betty,  thought 
fully;  "poor  lady!  she  bore  enough  from  this 
same  Anne  Boleyn." 


132  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"  Yet  the  statesmen  would  have  us  believe 
that  the  king  does  all  this  because  he  would 
have  a  boy  to  leave  to  rule  in  this  realm,"  said 
Lady  Crabtree,  cutting  the  beef  with  a  free 
stroke  of  her  knife.  "  'T  is  an  excellent  excuse 
to  marry  a  young  wife  to  cheat  the  King  of 
Scots.  There  be  others  that  would  rejoice  to 
find  a  King  of  Scots  in  a  like  case,  I  doubt 
not." 

"Yet  the  succession  is  a  serious  matter," 
said  Betty,  smiling;  "I  have  heard  my  uncle 
speak  of  it  with  deep  concern." 

"Serious  enough,"  retorted  the  old  woman, 
grimly.  "  My  Lady  Salisbury  is  busy  hatch 
ing  an  egg  of  conspiracy,  if  I  mistake  not;  and 
there  is  Lord  Hussey,  who  but  lately  had 
charge  of  the  Lady  Mary,  a  man  who  knows 
not  the  color  of  his  own  shirt  from  morn  till 
evening.  As  for  Reginald  Pole,  he  fancies 
himself  a  pope  already,  and  has  thrown  filth 
enough  upon  the  king  and  will  endeavor  to  pull 
down  his  grace,  albeit  he  owes  him  much. 
'T  is  a  lovely  muddle,  and  my  lord  privy  seal  is 
as  much  hated  as  the  devil.  As  for  this  queen, 
she  has  put  away  from  her,  by  some  misfor 
tune,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  her  uncle,  while 
his  grace  of  Suffolk  hates  her.  As  for  Percy, 
whom  she  loved,  he  is  like  to  be  of  more  harm 


OLD  MADAM  AT  HOME  133 

than  help  to  her.  'Tis  the  devil's  pot  and  he 
is  here  to  brew  it.  Ah,  what  have  we  here, 
Bronson  ? "  This  to  a  servant  who  stood  near 
her. 

At  the  moment  there  was  a  hubbub  at  the 
other  end  of  the  great  apartment.  The  mem 
bers  of  the  household  who  were  eating  at  the 
lower  tables  rose  and  peered  over  each  other's 
shoulders,  while  at  the  door  was  heard  the 
sound  of  a  dispute.  Lady  Crabtree  stood  up 
and  struck  the  table  with  the  handle  of  her 
knife,  her  whole  manner  changing  at  once  to 
that  of  a  ruler  of  the  domain. 

"Silence!"  she  called,  in  her  loud  voice. 
"What  fools  make  such  an  uproar  at  the 
door?" 

Instantly  her  guests  and  retainers  sank 
abashed  into  their  places,  and  thus  a  view  was 
given  of  the  entrance.  There  the  steward,  a 
small,  shrewd-visaged  man,  and  the  porter 
were  struggling  to  bring  in  a  great-limbed, 
burly  fellow  who  resisted  with  all  his  might 
though  his  hands  were  tied  behind  him. 

"Who  have  you  there,  Sir  Steward?"  asked 
his  mistress,  her  eagle  eye  upon  them  and  her 
clenched  fist  resting  on  the  table. 

"Madam,  'tis  a  vagrant  caught  in  the  third 
offence,"  panted  the  steward,  as  he  and  the 


134  THE   HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

porter  pulled  the  prisoner  forward  by  main 
force. 

Old  Madam,  as  she  was  so  often  called, 
looked  searchingly  at  the  prisoner,  a  stout,  ill- 
favored  man  dressed  in  ragged  clothing  and 
hanging  his  head,  as  if  ashamed  of  his  plight 

"  How  can  you  prove  the  charge  ? "  Lady 
Crabtree  asked  sharply. 

"Look  at  his  slit  ear,  my  lady,"  said  the 
steward ;  "  his  second  offence  of  begging  in 
this  parish  was  here  too,  yet  he  hath  the  bold 
ness  to  come  here  again,  with  his  ear  bored  at 
that." 

"A  very  valiant  beggar  certainly,"  she  re 
marked,  eying  the  vagrant  with  pitiless 
contempt.  "You  are  a  rogue,"  she  added, 
addressing  the  captive;  "but  what  have  you 
to  say?" 

"I  asked  but  for  a  herring,"  the  man  replied 
sullenly,  looking  up,  and  Betty  saw  that  he  was 
cross-eyed,  with  an  evil  cast  of  countenance. 

"And  will  hang  for  a  herring,  fool!"  said 
old  Madam,  harshly;  "and  it  would  be  right, 
for  with  that  body  you  should  work  or  die. 
Take  him  to  the  justice,"  she  added  to  her 
steward,  "and  tell  him  I  will  pay  for  the 
rope." 

The  two  servants  began  to  drag  the  prisoner 


OLD  MADAM  AT  HOME  135 

back,  and  he  offered  no  great  resistance,  seem 
ing  to  accept  his  fate  with  sullen  indifference; 
but  Betty  Carew  rose  from  her  seat. 

"Surely,  madam,"  she  cried,  "you  will 
not  hang  this  poor  man  for  asking  for  a 
herring  ? " 

Lady  Crabtree  looked  up  with  grim  indif 
ference. 

"He  is  a  valiant  beggar,  wench,"  she  said 
coolly,  "and  you  know  King  Henry's  law?" 

Betty  looked  at  her  with  passionate  scorn  in 
her  young  face. 

"By  heaven,  madam,"  she  cried,  "you  area 
brute!" 

Now  this  honest  expression  of  her  own  feel 
ings  so  pleased  the  strange  old  woman  that  she 
burst  into  a  hearty  fit  of  laughter.  Mean 
while  the  steward  and  the  porter  had  paused  in 
amazement,  and  the  prisoner  stood  between 
them  with  a  look  of  dogged  wretchedness  upon 
his  face. 

"Go  talk  to  the  king's  grace,  Mistress 
Betty,"  said  old  Madam,  wiping  the  tears  of 
laughter  from  her  eyes;  "this  realm  is  full  of 
these  knaves,  and  we  must  hang  them  or  they 
will  cut  our  throats." 

"Is  life  so  cheap?"  cried  Betty,  looking  at 
her  with  shining  eyes;  "have  we  not  all  to 


136  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

answer  for  our  doings?  I  pray  yon,  madam, 
spare  this  fellow  for  shame  of  the  herring! " 

Lady  Crabtree  looked  thoughtfully  at  the 
vagrant,  and  then  some  strange  notion  moved 
her  again  to  laughter. 

"You  shall  have  your  will,  mistress,"  she 
said;  "here,  Bronson,  go  out  and  get  a  dozen 
—  nay,  twenty  stout  rods  and  distribute  them." 

The  servant  went  to  execute  her  order, 
while  Betty  remained  standing,  a  puzzled  ex 
pression  on  her  face.  In  a  few  moments  the 
company,  to  the  number  of  sixteen  or  seven 
teen,  were  armed  with  stout  hickory  staffs,  and 
Lady  Crabtree  directed  that  these  men  should 
form  in  two  lines  from  the  door,  leaving  a 
small  aisle  in  the  middle.  This  was  clone, 
while  all  the  members  of  the  household  were 
on  their  feet,  women  and  girls  and  gray-headed 
men  all  looking  on  curiously.  The  light  of 
day,  now  much  brighter,  shone  in  the  room, 
and  many  of  the  tapers  were  extinguished. 
When  her  orders  were  carried  out,  Lady  Crab- 
tree  rose  and  stood  by  the  table,  pointing  her 
finger  at  the  culprit. 

"Hark  ye,  villain,"  she  said  harshly,  "this 
young  lady  has  interceded  for  you,  and  though 
I  am  breaking  law  thereby,  yet  would  I  pleasure 
her.  I  give  you  this  chance  for  your  life. 


OLD  MADAM  AT  HOME  137 

Yonder  is  the  door;  make  it,  but  take  your 
fortune  with  a  beating  and  the  magistrate  upon 
the  other  side.  You,  my  servants,  belabor 
him  well  as  he  runs  through  the  passage;  spare 
not  the  rogue,  I  charge  ye.  Now,  Sir  Steward, 
loose  him  and  let  him  go." 

The  cords  were  cut  from  the  man's  arms 
and  the  two  men  stepped  back  to  give  him 
room.  For  a  moment  he  stood  as  if  bewildered, 
and  then,  turning,  he  started  at  a  run  down  the 
long  hall.  As  he  reached  the  middle  of  the 
place,  he  came  in  contact  with  the  staffs  of 
the  men  servants,  who  obeyed  the  mistress's 
behests  with  good-will.  The  beggar  dodged 
wildly,  but  only  to  receive  two  blows  for  one 
that  he  evaded.  They  fell  on  every  side,  and 
he  was  driven  in  a  zigzag  course  by  the  force 
of  the  encounter.  The  dull  sound  of  the  blows 
which  hit  the  mark  was  mingled  with  shrill 
laughter  and  shouts  of  approval,  for  it  was  an 
entertainment  to  the  household.  Lady  Crab- 
tree  stood  up  and  clapped  her  hands. 

"Well  hit  there,  Jacob!"  she  cried;  "strike 
again,  Andrew,  but  spare  his  skull;  cheat  not 
the  hangman  of  an  honest  job." 

There  was  a  wild  scuffle  at  the  door,  and 
then  the  vagrant,  with  a  strong  blow  from  his 
fist,  sent  a  serving-man  sprawling  upon  his 


138  THE  HOUSE    OF   THE    WIZARD 

back  and  effected  his  escape  amid  a  great 
outcry. 

"Well  done,  marvellously  well  done!" 
laughed  Lady  Crabtree;  "he  will  beg  here  no 
more.  Sit  down,  Betty ;  you  have  won,  and 
may  finish  your  breakfast." 

But  Betty  remained  standing,  her  face  pale 
and  her  dark  eyes  full  of  fire. 

"Madam,"  she  said,  "  I  have  no  appetite;  I 
could  not  eat  the  herring  that  you  saved." 

"What  ails  you,  wench?"  the  old  woman 
asked  grimly;  "your  stomach  is  too  dainty. 
Know  you  not  that  the  king  would  hang  all 
such?" 

"I  care  not,"  Mistress  Carew  cried;  "that 
scene  was  one  to  turn  a  stouter  heart  than 
mine.  The  man  was  a  knave,  but  I  have  no 
love  of  seeing  misery  made  a  sport  of." 

"  Tush,  mistress, "  retorted  old  Madam,  coolly, 
"  you  are  a  fool,  as  young  women  often  are.  I 
have  no  pity  for  a  man  who  would  live  dis 
honestly,  if  he  could;  a  dirty,  lazy  lout,  who 
begs  and  steals.  Sit  down,  my  girl,  for  here 
is  a  guest  who  comes  to  look  at  your  fair  face 
and  hopes  that  I  may  die  and  leave  you  rich, 
which  I  shall  not." 

Betty  looked  up  and  saw  Sir  Barton  Henge. 
He  had  just  been  ushered  into  the  hall,  and 


OLD  MADAM  AT  HOME  139 

wore  a  rich  riding-suit  and  carried  his  plumed 
hat  in  his  hand.  He  advanced  with  an  air  of 
eager  pleasure,  his  bold  eyes  fixed  on  Mistress 
Carew. 

"I  crave  your  pardon,  Lady  Crabtree,"  he 
said,  with  a  graceful  salutation,  "for  coming 
so  early,  but  I  knew  the  morning  star  shone 
ever  at  Wildrick  Hall." 

"  A  very  pretty  compliment  to  an  old  woman, 
Sir  Barton,"  Lady  Crabtree  said.  "You  find 
us  much  upset;  my  young  mistress  here  flies 
out  at  me  because  I  will  not  coddle  a  valiant 
beggar. " 

Betty  closed  her  lips  tightly  and  drew 
further  away;  her  instinctive  dislike  for  Henge 
increased  every  time  she  saw  him,  though  his 
passionate  admiration  for  her  was  plain  enough 
to  flatter  the  vanity  of  one  so  young. 

"Mistress  Carew  has  a  tender  heart,"  said 
Henge,  smiling  blandly;  "I  can  see  that  in 
her  eyes." 

At  this,  old  Madam  burst  out  with  a  harsh 
laugh. 

"Mercy  on  your  imagination,  sir,"  she  said 
in  great  amusement,  "  if  you  can  fancy  any 
tenderness  in  the  glance  that  Mistress  Betty 
casts  at  you !  You  are  in  no  favor  in  that 
quarter." 


I4O  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

Betty  blushed  furiously,  but  held  her  peace. 
She  was  not  entirely  displeased  at  Lady  Crab- 
tree's  frankness,  for  Sir  Barton  had  pushed  his 
addresses  with  such  violent  warmth  and  haste 
that  she  dreaded  his  visits. 

"You  are  gay  this  morning,  madam,"  he 
said  sharply,  with  a  glance  of  ill-disguised 
anger  at  the  old  woman;  "happily,  you  are  not 
the  interpreter  of  Mistress  Carew's  heart  or 
eyes." 

"You  fool,"  retorted  Lady  Crabtree,  laugh 
ing,  "Betty's  eyes  need  no  interpreter  —  " 

"Madam,"  interrupted  the  young  girl, 
sharply,  "I  crave  your  permission  to  with 
draw;"  and  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  she 
turned  and  walked  from  the  room,  holding  her 
head  high  and  with  crimson  cheeks. 

"There,  Sir  Barton,"  laughed  the  old 
woman,  "  see  how  welcome  you  are !  The 
wench  has  sense,  I  tell  you,  and  will  none  of 
you." 

"  I  am  not  so  confident  of  that  as  you,  my 
Lady  Crabtree,"  he  retorted  angrily;  "I  can 
find  a  way  to  bring  this  haughty  young  mis 
tress  to  reason." 

The  old  woman  looked  at  him  sharply. 

"You  have  an  air  of  mystery,"  she  said 
coldly,  "but  look  you,  Barton  Henge,  I  love 


OLD  MADAM  AT  HOME  141 

this  wench,  and  I  swear  that  you  shall  not 
disturb  her,  nay,  or  trouble  her  one  whit.  Sit 
down  and  eat ;  you  are  hungry,  doubtless ;  but 
nourish  no  dreams  of  conquest,  unless  the 
maid  is  willing,  which  she  may  be  in  time,  for 
all  girls  are  fools  once,  else  there  would  be 
fewer  marriages. " 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE     PRECONTRACT 

MISTRESS    CAREW,    finding   herself   pursued 
even  to  Wildrick  Hall  by  the  bold  addresses 
of  Sir  Barton  Henge,  and  having  a  supersti 
tious  dread  of  his  scarred  face,  withdrew  from 
the  company  assembled  about  Lady  Crabtree. 
She   pleaded  a  slight    indisposition    and   kept 
her  room  for  a  few  days,  although  even  there 
she  was  followed  by  flowery  missives  from  her 
persistent  suitor.     They  were  brought  to  her 
by  one  of  the  women,  and  after  the  first  two, 
Betty   returned    them    unopened.      She   would 
have  dreaded  Henge  less  had  she  been   more 
independent,    but  her   peculiar  position  made 
her  fearful  of  his    persecutions.      She  did  not 
know  how  her  uncle  would    view  the    matter, 
and  if  Sir  Barton's  suit  was  seconded  by  Sir 
William's  commands,  it  might  distress  her  yet 
more  deeply.     As  she  sat  alone,  she  had  food 
enough  for  sorrowful  meditations;    she  was  an 
orphan  and,  unhappily  as  she  thought,  endowed 
with  a  beauty  which  attracted  the  admiration 


THE  PRECONTRACT  143 

that  she  least  desired.  Had  the  suitor  been 
Simon  Raby,  her  reflections  would  have  been 
of  a  totally  different  nature.  But  she  was  not 
yet  certain  of  Raby's  feeling  for  her;  she  was 
wise  enough  to  know  that  the  fine  speeches  of 
a  courtier  counted  for  little,  and  she  was  too 
proud  to  permit  herself  to  believe  in  the  tender 
words  which  Simon  had  spoken  to  her.  But 
there  was  no  room  for  doubt  of  Henge's  bold 
suit,  and  she  shrank  with  horror  from  the 
thought  of  such  a  lover,  although  his  fine 
appearance  and  gallant  bearing  might  have 
won  the  fancy  of  many  a  young  woman  placed 
in  similar  circumstances;  but  Mistress  Betty 
had  a  temper  and  a  will  that  matched  with 
decided  opinions. 

Henge  had  been  two  days  at  Wildrick,  when 
the  household  was  surprised  by  the  arrival  of 
Sir  William  Carew.  He  had  been  to  London 
on  a  business  matter  and  came  to  Deptford  to 
see  his  niece  before  returning  home.  It  was 
difficult  to  feign  illness  while  her  uncle  was 
there,  and  Betty  was  forced  from  her  retire 
ment  at  last.  She  came  down  to  receive  a 
kind  greeting  from  Sir  William,  but  to  be 
annoyed  by  the  addresses  of  her  suitor.  She 
saw,  too,  that  Carew  treated  Henge  with 
courtesy,  and  the  fear  beset  her  that  her  rela- 


144  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

tives  might  be  glad  to  be  free  of  a  penniless 
girl,  at  any  cost.  She  was  likely  to  have 
little  voice  in  the  affair,  not  even  her  prefer 
ence  would  be  consulted;  and  it  might  be  that 
she  would  be  driven  into  a  marriage  that  she 
despised,  nor  would  it  matter  if  her  heart  was 
elsewhere.  And  indeed  there  was  something 
more  than  prejudice  in  her  hatred  of  Henge,  a 
handsome  man  and  one  usually  much  favored 
by  women.  Betty  saw,  instead,  a  vision  of  the 
manly  form  and  fine  face  of  Simon  Raby,  and 
she  found  nothing  agreeable  in  her  dark-browed 
wooer. 

It  was  the  day  after  her  uncle's  arrival  that 
she  sat  alone  in  a  little  turret  chamber  which 
looked  out  over  the  river,  and  here  Sir  William 
found  her.  A  glance  at  his  face  told  her  that 
his  visit  had  some  unusual  import,  and  she 
was  troubled,  half  divining  the  truth.  Carew 
came  in  and  sat  down  on  a  high  oaken  settle 
beside  her  and  was  a  moment  silent,  as  if  in 
thought. 

"There  is  some  trouble,  uncle?"  Mistress 
Betty  said,  a  quiver  of  excitement  in  her  voice, 
and  her  dark  eyes  on  his  face. 

"Yea,  wench,"  he  said,  "a  trouble  I  had  not 
looked  for;  albeit  I  might  have  known  Thomas 
well  enough  for  that." 


THE  PRECONTRACT  145 

"You  mean  my  father?"  she  said  in  a  low 
tone;  "then  it  doth  concern  me." 

"It  doth  concern  thee,  truly,"  retorted 
Carew,  gravely ;  "  nor  do  I  see  the  end  on  it. 
Did  I  not  love  thee,  wench,  it  would  not  so 
disturb  me." 

"I  pray  thee,  uncle,  tell  me  all,"  Betty 
exclaimed,  the  trouble  deepening  on  her  face. 

"There  is  but  little  to  tell,  my  girl,"  he 
answered,  with  a  glance  at  her  in  which  admi 
ration  and  pity  were  mingled.  "  I  find  you  are 
troth  plight  to  Sir  Barton  Henge. " 

Betty  sprang  from  her  seat,  her  face  aflame. 

"  'T  is  a  lie  of  his  !  "  she  cried,  "a  miserable 
and  cowardly  lie!" 

Sir  William  shook  his  head.  "  Nay,  fair 
niece,"  he  said,  "it  is  no  lie.  I  saw  the 
papers;  duly  signed  they  are,  too.  'Twas 
done  when  thy  father  had  wealth  and  estate; 
and  there  it  stands,  and  would  have  stood,  I 
take  it,  had  it  not  been  for  thy  face." 

"It  does  not  matter,  sir,"  Betty  cried,  "I 
will  none  of  him.  From  the  moment  that  I 
saw  him  in  the  inn,  I  dreaded  him,  and  there 
is  something  in  his  face  I  cannot  endure." 

"Belike  there  is,  Betty,"  Carew  returned 
gravely ;  "yet  Henge  is  handsome,  and  esteemed 
a  brave  man,  albeit  I  never  liked  him,  nor  he 
10 


146  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE   WIZARD 

me.  He  drinks  hard  and  lives  better  than  his 
purse  allows;  yet  I  do  think  that  many  women 
would  believe  themselves  happy  and  he  chose 
them.  He  loves  thee,  wench,  madly  too,  I 
think,  as  such  men  do  sometimes;  and  it  is 
sure  that  he  will  never  quit  his  claim,  but  cry 
'  precontract '  if  you  dream  of  wedding  else 
where." 

Sir  William's  tone  was  matter  of  fact  and 
calm,  impressing  his  niece  with  a  painful  sense 
of  helplessness.  To  him  this  seemed  doubt 
less  no  uncommon  affair,  and  a  young  girl's 
preference  was  of  small  consequence.  Mis 
tress  Betty  stood  looking  at  him  with  horror 
growing  in  her  eyes. 

"Alas!"  she  said  sadly,  "that  evil  wizard 
told  me  I  should  wed  a  man  scarred  as  Henge 
is,  on  the  brow." 

At  this  Carew  pricked  up  his  ears. 

"What  say  you,  niece?"  he  asked;  "a 
wizard?  To  what  wizard  did  you  go?" 

"To  none,"  she  answered;  "but  one  came 
to  Kimbolton,  — a  little,  bow-legged  man,  with 
a  russet  cloak." 

"Ah,  Sanders,"  said  her  uncle;  "and  he 
was  at  Kimbolton?  A  sure  sign  that  some 
scheme  was  hatching.  'T  is  well  that  the  poor 
lady  died." 


THE  PRECONTRACT  147 

Betty  told  him  briefly  the  story  of  the  packet, 
and  he  nodded  his  head  thoughtfully. 

"You  did  well,  my  child,"  he  said;  "I  knew 
that  I  could  trust  you.  As  for  Sanders's 
prophecy,  doubtless  he  knew  something  of  this 
contract.  It  is  the  business  of  such  men  to 
pick  up  all  the  information  that  they  can.  But 
what  will  you  say  to  Henge?  Having  heard 
the  whole  matter  from  him,  I  could  but  lay  it 
before  you.  For  my  own  part,  I  will  not  force 
you,  my  girl ;  but  bear  in  mind  that  you  are 
likely  to  have  few  suitors.  You  are  portion 
less,  and  this  man  loves  you;  of  that  there  is 
no  doubt." 

He  was  watching  the  fair  face  closely  as  he 
spoke,  but  he  made  no  sign  of  any  relent 
ing  toward  the  penniless  orphan.  He  did 
not  divine  the  struggle  in  the  proud  young 
heart.  She  did  not  hesitate  a  moment  in 
her  answer. 

"I  thank  you,  uncle,"  she  said  with  spirit, 
"for  sparing  me  your  displeasure,  for  truly  I 
could  not  obey  you  if  you  bade  me  wed  this 
man.  I  would  sooner  have  his  hatred  than 
his  love,  and  both  I  hold  as  worthy  only  of  my 
contempt." 

"  Remember,  wench,  that  you  are  like  to 
die  unwed,  a  poor  dependent  in  the  house  of 


148  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

some  relative,  picking  up  the  crumbs  that  fall 
from  another's  table." 

"Sir,"  she  answered  proudly,  "I  would 
rather  starve  than  eat  my  bread  as  the  wife  of 
this  man  Henge. " 

Sir  William  smiled.  "My  girl,"  he  said, 
"I  rejoice  to  see  the  spirit  of  your  blood,  and 
I  cannot  blame  you ;  yet  this  contract  exists  — 
made  by  your  father  — 

Betty  interrupted  him  with  a  passionate 
gesture. 

"Uncle,  I  would  know  the  truth!"  she 
cried;  "they  told  me  —  the  old  servants  whis 
pered  it  in  my  childish  ears,  and  it  ran  through 
my  veins  like  poison.  They  said  my  father 
wagered  my  mother  at  the  gaming-table  the 
night  that  I  was  born  —  and  lost.  Is  it 
so?" 

Her  face  was  white  now,  and  her  g*~eat  eyes 
were  set  upon  her  uncle's  with  a  look  that 
made  him  wince.  A  deep  red  color  stole  over 
his  bronzed  cheeks,  and  he  bent  his  head, 
shamefaced. 

" 'T  is  true,"  he  said  harshly;  "and  it  was 
to  this  man  Henge,  then  a  roystering  young 
gamester,  and  he  held  the  debt.  Thy  father 
made  this  contract  for  thee  in  its  room." 

"And  he  would   claim  it?"  Mistress  Betty 


THE  PRECONTRACT  149 

spoke  in  a  low  voice,  but  her  face  was  like 
the  face  of  a  corpse. 

Sir  William  bowed  his  head  without  a  word. 

"  By  heaven ! "  she  cried,  "  I  would  sooner 
be  torn  in  pieces!  Let  him  never  dare  to 
come  to  me,  or  I  shall  insult  him  —  I  cannot 
bear  this  agony  of  shame !  " 

"Nay,  offend  him  not,  fair  niece,"  Carew 
said  gravely;  "he  is  an  evil-tempered  man 
and  may  yet  work  much  evil  for  you.  I  will 
tell  him  that  your  mind  is  set  against  this 
union,  and  that  I  will  in  no  wise  permit  you  to 
be  enforced.  But  let  the  man  alone;  your 
tongue  is  sharp  and  will  not  mend  your  case, 
and  remember  that  he  was  in  no  way  one  whit 
worse  than  your  father  —  nay,  less  culpable 
than  he." 

"Uncle,"  she  said  passionately,  "I  know 
what  my  father  was  —  may  God  forgive  him. 
From  my  babyhood  it  has  been  told  me  —  that 
he  was  my  shame.  In  my  childhood  it  was 
rated  in  my  ears,  and  in  my  girlhood  it  was 
forced  upon  me  by  the  indifferent  treatment  of 
those  who  should  have  befriended  me,  the 
canting  patronage  that  made  a  kindness  to  me 
a  charity.  'Twas  not  my  fault,  God  knows, 
that  he  fathered  me;  had  I  had  the  choosing, 
it  should  have  been  otherwise,  but  yet  I  suffer 


150  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

for  it.  I  am  to  be  sold  as  chattel,  it  would 
seem,  because,  forsooth,  I  am  my  father's 
child;  but  1  swear  that  the  man  who  buys  me 
shall  find  that  I  have  enough  of  my  father  in 
me  to  make  his  purchase  a  thorn  in  his  flesh 
and  a  curse  to  his  peace ! " 

"That  I  warrant,  wench,"  Carew  said 
grimly,  "and  I  think  that  he  will  scarcely 
break  thy  will  unless  he  breaks  thy  neck. 
Surely,  I  will  not  try  to  force  thee.  Henge 
shall  know  that  thou  art  so  set  against  the 
marriage  that  it  may  not  be.  And  now,  my 
girl,  make  ready  to  go  back  to  Greenwich,  for 
in  my  pocket  is  thy  appointment  as  maid  of 
honor  to  the  queen's  grace," 

A  change  came  over  Betty's  face,  and  then 
she  answered  with  more  composure. 

"I  had  no  wish  to  serve  Queen  Anne,"  she 
said;  "I  cannot  put  the  dead  queen  from  my 
mind,  but  this  one  has  been  ill,  too,  and  in 
trouble.  'T  is  well  that  I  should  be  no  longer 
a  burden  here ;  I  will  go  right  cheerfully,  and 
I  thank  you  for  it,  uncle." 

Sir  William  laid  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder. 

"My  wench,"  he  said,  not  unkindly,  "think 
not  so  ill  of  me  that  I  begrudge  my  orphan 
niece  her  bread.  I  did  but  try  you.  I  had  no 
wish  for  you  to  wed  this  Henge,  though  there 


THE  PRECONTRACT  151 

be  many  worse,  for  men  are  not  the  paragons 
of  a  young  maid's  dreams.  But  you  will  meet 
him  at  Greenwich,  and  mark  me,  Betty,  bear 
yourself  courteously  toward  him.  'T  is  said  of 
him  that  he  has  the  spite  and  venom  of  a 
spider,  and  he  is  mad  with  love  of  that  fair 
face  of  yours;  and  truly  he  has  the  claim  of  a 
precontract,  albeit  he  shall  not  have  you 
against  your  will.  Bat  these  are  dangerous 
times,  and  I  have  heard  that  he  has  the  ear  of 
my  lord  privy  seal,  though  I  do  suspect  him  of 
being  a  malcontent  and  hating  Cromwell,  while 
he  fawns  upon  him.  Make  a  friend  of  this 
young  queen,  and  perchance  she  may  do  you  a 
great  service.  They  say  that  the  king's  high 
ness  is  not  well  pleased  with  her,  but  I  take 
this  for  idle  rumor;  for  I  remember  when  he 
used  to  ride  to  Hever  Castle  to  court  her,  as 
ardent  as  a  boy.  'T  is  but  a  passing  cloud  and 
her  sun  will  burst  forth  again  to  scorch  those 
who  have  endeavored  to  work  mischief  against 
her,  as  was  the  case  of  my  lord  cardinal.  I 
esteem  it  a  good  fortune  to  get  this  appoint 
ment  for  you,  which  I  did  through  Mrs.  Wyatt, 
the  queen's  particular  friend.  We  will  leave  Sir 
Barton  to  Zenobia,  who  torments  him  as  a  cat 
does  a  mouse;  and  haste  you,  for  in  an  hour 
we  go  by  the  river  to  Greenwich." 


CHAPTER   XIII 

THE    QUEEN    AT    GREENWICH 

WHEN  Sir  William's  barge  stopped  at  the 
water-stairs  at  Greenwich  Palace,  Master  Raby 
came  down  to  meet  Mistress  Betty  and  her 
uncle.  It  was  an  accident,  yet  his  pleasure 
at  the  encounter  was  so  evident  that  Carew 
smiled;  the  beauty  of  that  face  was  doing  mis 
chief  in  more  than  one  case,  he  thought,  and 
was  amused  to  note  that  here  his  high-tempered 
niece  showed  only  gentle  courtesy. 

"Sets  the  wind  in  that  quarter?  "  Sir  Wil 
liam  said  to  himself;  "then,  verily,  Henge  is 
like  to  have  a  very  pretty  quarrel  on  his 
hands,  for  here  is  a  young  sprig  who  can 
handle  a  sword  as  well  as  he." 

Meanwhile,  unconscious  of  the  thoughts 
running  through  Carew's  brain,  Mistress  Betty 
and  her  escort  walked  a  little  in  advance,  en 
gaged  in  conversation.  Half-way  to  the  palace 
gates,  some  acquaintances  stayed  Sir  William's 
progress,  and  the  two,  coming  alone  to  the 
entrance,  stood  waiting  for  him.  They  were 


THE   QUEEN  AT  GREENWICH  153 

undisturbed;  the  king  was  at  Whitehall,  and 
but  few  loungers  showed  themselves  about  the 
palace.  In  spite  of  his  pleasant  greeting,  there 
was  some  constraint  in  Raby's  manner,  and 
now  that  the  opportunity  presented  itself,  he 
turned  abruptly  to  his  companion,  a  flush 
mounting  to  his  face  as  he  addressed  her. 

"Mistress  Carew, "  he  said,  with  some  hesi 
tation,  "  't  is  said  that  you  are  plighted  to  Sir 
Barton  Henge. " 

Betty  started,  her  face  flushing  more  deeply 
than  his. 

"  Who  tells  these  tales  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 

"They  are  but  idle  tales,  then?"  he  asked 
quickly.  "  I  could  scarce  credit  them,  knowing 
that  you  knew  him  not  that  night  at  the  inn." 

She  looked  at  him  with  perplexity  in  her 
eyes.  What  could  she  do,  she  thought,  and 
how  defend  herself  against  her  enemy?  Truth 
alone  could  help  her,  even  while  it  wounded 
her,  and  she  was  brave  enough  to  see  it. 

"Master  Raby,"  she  said,  with  a  soft  falter 
in  her  voice  that  her  uncle  would  not  have 
recognized,  "there  is  a  contract,  made  when  I 
was  a  baby;  not  even  my  uncle  knew  of  it. 
Upon  the  strength  of  that,  Sir  Barton  must 
have  set  these  rumors  afloat;  there  is  naught 
else." 


154  THE  HOUSE    OF  THE    WIZARD 

Her  companion's  face  fell  at  her  words. 

"A  contract?"  he  said  slowly;  "and  Sir 
William  wishes  it  fulfilled,  doubtless,  and 
you,  Mistress  Carew?" 

"Sir,  I  will  never  wed  him,"  she  said 
firmly,  holding  her  head  proudly. 

There  was  a  joyful  flash  in  Raby's  eyes 
which  brought  a  softer  blush  to  Betty's  cheek. 

"  'T  would  be  a  sacrifice  to  make  angels 
weep ! "  he  said  in  a  low  tone,  his  radiant 
glance  making  her  eyes  seek  the  ground;  "the 
man  is  a  knave  to  claim  it  against  your  will." 

" 'T  is  prophesied  that  I  will  wed  a  man  so 
scarred,"  she  said,  in  a  troubled  voice,  for 
superstition  had  stirred  in  her  heart  ever  since 
she  first  saw  Sir  Barton's  brow. 

Simon  Raby  laughed  as  he  took  her  hand, 
which  offered  but  a  poor  resistance. 

"Mistress  Carew,"  he  whispered,  "may  not 
another  man  be  so  scarred?  Truly,  there  are 
many  who  would  bear  a  greater  cut  for  thy 
sake." 

A  roguish  smile  curved  Betty's  lips,  but 
she  averted  her  face. 

"But  I  like  not  the  scar,  sir,"  she  said 
demurely. 

"Then  I  swear  that  thou  shalt  not  wed  a 
scarred  face,"  Raby  answered;  and  he  kissed 


THE   QUEEN  AT  GREENWICH  155 

the  embroidered  glove  that  she  had  left  be 
tween  his  fingers,  having  slipped  her  hand  out 
of  it. 

"  My  uncle  says  a  dovverless  maid  is  not 
soon  wedded,  sir,"  she  retorted,  with  a  flash  of 
pride  in  her  brown  eyes;  "the  scarred  and  bat 
tered  remnants  are  for  the  portionless,  I  take 
it." 

This  sudden  outburst  took  Master  Raby  by 
surprise.  Unconscious  of  the  wound  in  the 
young  girl's  heart,  he  could  not  understand  the 
bitterness  of  her  tone.  But  he  had  a  frank  and 
generous  nature,  and  it  kindled  in  quick  sym 
pathy  for  the  beautiful  orphan. 

"Mistress  Carew,"  he  said  gently,  "there 
are  some  who  need  no  richer  dower  than  the 
one  which  nature  gave  at  birth,  and  which 
outshines  all  others." 

Ashamed  of  her  sudden  outbreak,  she  turned 
away  and  looked  to  see  her  uncle  coming 
toward  them.  Before  he  reached  them,  Raby 
spoke  again. 

"I  know  not  your  uncle's  mind,  fair  mis 
tress,"  he  said  gravely,  "but  if  this  man 
Henge  in  aught  offend  you,  I  pray  you  remem 
ber  that  one  sword  is  ever  at  your  service,  and 
one  arm  ever  ready  to  defend  your  cause." 

The  young  girl  looked  up  at  the  fine,  frank 


156  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

face  and  kindling  eyes,  and  her  heart  throbbed 
in  her  breast. 

"I  thank  you,"  she  faltered,  and  the  flush 
on  his  face  shone  in  hers  like  the  rising  sun; 
"  sir,  I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart,  and  I  am 
your  debtor. " 

"Nay,"  he  answered  softly,  "I  shall  be 
yours,  and  you  let  me  serve  you." 

And  Sir  William,  coming  up,  found  them 
blushing  like  two  children,  and  smiled  to  him 
self,  wondering  not  a  little  how  this  tangled 
skein  would  unravel.  But  he  made  no  sign, 
only  carrying  Mistress  Betty  away  to  install 
her  in  her  new  post  before  he  went  on  to  his 
home  in  Devon,  where  there  was  need  of  his 
presence  at  all  times. 

The  royal  household  at  Greenwich  was 
under  a  cloud.  The  queen's  illness  had  dis 
turbed  the  tranquillity  of  the  new  year,  and 
there  were  whispers  that  the  king  was  estranged 
by  the  loss  of  his  boy,  born  dead  on  the  2Qth 
of  January.  Anne  had  made  a  slow  recovery 
and  had  withdrawn  herself  from  the  festivities 
of  the  court;  she  chose  to  be  much  alone,  and 
wandered  in  secluded  corners  of  Greenwich 
Park,  often  unattended,  save  by  her  little 
dogs.  It  was  an  inauspicious  time  for  Mis 
tress  Betty  to  receive  an  appointment  in  the 


THE   QUEEN  AT  GREENWICH  157 

household,  but  she  was  kindly  welcomed  by 
the  queen's  other  attendants,  and  took  up  her 
new  duties  with  a  lighter  heart  since  she  had 
talked  with  Simon  Raby.  The  young  girl, 
who  had  been  a  dependent  in  her  uncle's 
house,  now  found  herself  a  person  of  some  con 
sequence.  Each  maid  of  honor  was  permitted 
a  tirewoman  and  a  little  spaniel  to  attend  her, 
and  Betty  had  a  liberal  breakfast-table,  served 
with  a  chine  of  beef,  a  manchet  and  a  chet 
loaf,  besides  a  flagon  of  beer  in  which  there 
were  no  hops.  But  all  the  maids  of  honor 
dined  at  mess,  and  chickens,  pigeons,  and 
rabbits  were  served,  as  well  as  beef  and  man- 
chets  and  much  wine,  according  to  the  custom 
of  the  time.  Their  hours  of  attendance  on  the 
queen  were  ordered  by  rule,  and  for  the  first 
few  days  Betty  was  unnoticed  by  Anne,  and 
found  opportunity  to  make  acquaintance  with 
those  about  her,  and  more  than  once  saw  Raby, 
who  was  at  Greenwich  as  an  equerry  of  the 
queen. 

The  freedom  of  her  life  at  Mohun's  Ottery 
and  Wildrick  made  the  more  confining  office 
of  maid  of  honor  irksome,  and  the  young  girl 
took  every  opportunity  to  walk  out  into  the 
park.  She  loved  best  the  early  morning  hours, 
when  few  were  stirring  outside  the  palace,  and 


158  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

she  found  her  best  amusement  in  these  solitary 
strolls.  It  was  thus,  one  morning,  that  she 
came  upon  the  queen,  also  alone.  Mistress 
Carew  was  returning  from  her  walk,  and  entered 
the  quadrangle  court,  where  the  morning  sun 
light  was  shining  with  little  power.  She  was 
startled  by  the  sight  of  the  queen,  sitting  on  a 
stone  bench  a  little  way  before  her.  Anne 
Boleyn  was  alone,  and  sat  watching  her  little 
dogs,  who  were  playing  in  front  of  her,  tossing 
a  ball  between  them,  snapping  and  barking  in 
the  abandonment  of  canine  joy.  The  queen 
was  dressed  in  red  damask,  a  deep  cape  of 
black  velvet  edged  with  fur  hanging  over  her 
shoulders,  and  on  her  head  a  five-cornered 
black  velvet  hood  trimmed  with  pearls.  So 
absorbed  was  she  in  thought  that  she  did  not 
at  first  notice  the  presence  of  her  maid  of 
honor,  and  Betty  had  time  to  note  the  changes 
made  by  illness  in  her  face,  and  she  thought, 
too,  that  she  had  been  weeping.  Unwilling  to 
disturb  her  revery,  the  young  girl  made  an 
effort  to  pass  her  unnoticed ;  but  Anne,  hear 
ing  the  rustle  of  her  skirts,  looked  up.  For 
a  moment  there  was  no  recognition  in  her 
eyes,  and  then  she  remembered  the  beautiful 
face. 

"'Tis  Mistress  Carew,"  she  said,  in  her  soft 


THE   QUEEN  AT  GREENWICH  159 

voice;    "come    hither,    I    would    speak    with 
thee." 

Surprised,  but  pleased  by  the  queen's  gentle 
manner,  Betty  drew  near  and  stood  in  an  atti 
tude  of  quiet  attention.  Anne  sat  looking  at 
her  sadly,  and  so  long  that  she  became  embar 
rassed,  and  the  color  mantled  richly  in  her 
cheeks. 

"You  are  marvellously  lovely,"  said  the 
queen,  at  last ;  "  yet  I,  who  once  so  prized  my 
own  beauty,  have  begun  to  think  it  of  little 
value,  and  that  the  price  we  pay  for  its  exalta 
tion  is  too  great.  Tread  carefully,  my  maid, 
else  it  will  bring  you  only  misery." 

"  I  have  been  taught  to  place  small  value  on 
it,  your  grace,"  Betty  answered  soberly,  "I 
was  fortunate  in  my  schooling." 

"Alas!"  said  Anne,  "I  would  it  had  been 
so  with  me;  but  I  was  bred  in  France  and, 
save  for  good  Master  Latimer,  there  have  been 
few  to  tell  the  truth  to  me." 

She  paused,  and  her  eyes  rested  thought 
fully  upon  the  ground,  and  Betty  stood  uncer 
tain  whether  to  withdraw  or  remain,  and  for  a 
few  moments  there  was  an  uneasy  silence. 
Then  the  queen  looked  up  again. 

"Mistress  C-irew, "  she  said  abruptly,  "you 
were  at  Kimbolton?" 


I6O  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

Betty  flushed  with  surprise. 

"Only  for  a  little  while,  madam,"  she  said. 

"  Were  you  chosen  by  —  "  she  hesitated  and 
then  added  clearly,  "  by  the  late  queen  ?  " 

"No,"  replied  Betty,  quietly,  "I  know  not 
the  manner  of  my  selection.  One  winter  night 
Master  Raby  came  down  to  Mohun's  Ottery 
with  letters  from  my  lord  privy  seal,  and  in 
the  morning  my  uncle  took  me  to  Kimbolton." 

"  Ah,  my  lord  privy  seal  was  then  over- 
zealous  in  my  cause,  albeit  now  he  cools," 
said  Anne,  thoughtfully;  "doubtless  you  were 
sent  in  the  room  of  one  she  would  have  chosen, 
had  she  had  any  choice.  Alack!"  she  added  in 
a  strange  voice,  "  't  is  little  more  than  a  month 
since  I  rejoiced  at  her  passing  away  and  be 
lieved  myself  at  last  the  Queen  of  England ; 
but  now  —  great  heaven!  how  like  a  quicksand 
is  the  heart  of  man,  and  swallows  up  all  things 
that  touch  it !  Maiden,  I  have  heard  the 
stories  of  Catherine's  death  —  were  they  true  ?  " 

"Ay,  madam,"  said  Betty,  firmly;  "she  died 
like  a  Christian,  and  royally  —  like  a  queen; 
albeit  the  first  estate  is  higher  than  the  last." 

"  And  I  was  sorry  that  she  made  so  good  an 
end,"  said  Anne  Boleyn,  musingly;  "and  yet 
she  never  harmed  me,  even  when  I  held  her 
high  place  against  her.  I  knew  her;  she  was 


THE  QUEEN  AT  GREENWICH  l6l 

an  austere  woman  and  unlovely,  yet,  as  you 
said,  a  Christian.  My  girl,"  she  added,  turn 
ing  suddenly  to  Betty,  "which  would  you  love, 
her  or  me? " 

Mistress  Carew  stood  blushing,  tongue-tied, 
for  in  her  heart  she  had  ever  condemned  this 
fair  woman;  but  now,  under  the  spell  of  her 
glance  and  voice,  her  resolution  faltered. 
Anne,  accustomed  to  reading  the  faces  of  those 
about  her,  read  at  a  glance  the  trouble  in  the 
young  girl's  heart. 

"I  see,"  she  said,  rising,  and  laying  her 
hand  on  Betty's  arm.  "Give  me  your  help, 
wench,  to  the  house,  for  I  am  not  strong  in 
heart  or  body.  You  loved  the  virtue  of  that 
dead  queen,  and  you  have  seen  me  rejoice  at 
her  fall.  Yet  bethink  you,  Mistress  Carew, 
how  mighty  was  my  temptation;  and  I  was 
young  and  had  been  bred  in  that  gay  court 
beyond  the  seas.  Judge  not  too  sharply,  lest 
you  be  in  like  case;  for  you  have  a  beauty  as 
great  as  mine  in  my  first  youth.  My  heart  is 
heavy;  I  would  have  some  about  me  to  love 
Queen  Anne  Boleyn.  I  charge  you,  mistress, 
to  think  less  of  the  dead  and  more  of  the  liv 
ing  queen,  who  bears  in  her  breast  a  sorrow 
and  alas,  has  failed  to  bring  a  prince  to 
England ! " 

ii 


CHAPTER   XIV 

THE    STRANGE    HOUSE    BY    THE    THAMES 

IT  was  evening  and  it  was  strangely  quiet  at 
Greenwich  Palace.  The  king  was  again  absent, 
and  the  queen  kept  her  state  alone.  The  gay 
rufflers  of  the  court  were  gathered  in  other 
quarters,  however,  for  that  day  Anne  had  but 
few  of  her  own  maids  about  her.  Grooms  and 
lackeys  crowded  the  outer  corridors,  but  the 
lofty  apartments  of  the  queen  were  well  nigh 
empty.  It  was  reported  that  she  was  indis 
posed,  but  this  was  rather  an  excuse  for  the 
seclusion  she  desired.  She  sat  in  a  great  room 
hung  with  rich-hued  tapestries,  a  fire  blazing 
on  the  hearth  and  a  hundred  tapers  burning; 
its  brilliance,  warmth,  the  delicate  perfume  in 
the  air  being  a  strange  contrast  to  those  rooms 
at  Kimbolton  where  a  queen  had  died.  Anne 
Boleyn  herself  was  clad  in  white  and  silver 
brocade,  a  cape  of  Flemish  lace  upon  her 
shoulders,  strings  of  pearls  about  that  slender 
throat,  and  on  her  head  a  coif  of  crimson  velvet 
edged  with  pearls,  a  great  diamond  set  in  the 


THE  STRANGE  HOUSE  BY  THE    THAMES    163 

front  and  shining  on  her  brow  like  a  star.  But 
for  her  pallor  and  the  haggard  look  about  her 
eyes,  she  was  as  beautiful  as  she  was  in 
her  days  of  triumph  as  the  Marchioness  of 
Pembroke.  She  sat  in  the  center  of  the  room, 
and  at  her  feet,  upon  a  crimson  cushion,  was 
Mrs.  Wyatt.  About  these  two  were  gathered 
three  other  attendants,  Lady  Rochford,  the 
queen's  sister-in-law,  Mistress  Gaynsford,  and 
Betty  Carew;  Betty  herself  as  lovely  as  the 
queen,  dressed  in  pale  blue  with  a  chain  of 
dull  gold  about  her  neck,  given  her  by  Anne. 
There  were  no  others,  and  the  talk  was  free  of 
all  restraint,  the  queen's  easy  intercourse  with 
her  own  people  and  her  carelessness  of  speech 
afterwards  feeding  the  fire  when  scandal  was 
busy  with  her  fair  fame. 

Her  favorite,  Mary  Wyatt,  was  recounting 
her  adventures  in  seeking  some  one  to  cast  her 
horoscope,  and  Anne,  diverted  by  the  story, 
encouraged  her  with  eager  attention.  It  was 
a  charming  scene,  these  five  handsome  women 
in  their  gay  apparel,  in  that  lofty  chamber 
where  the  flames  of  so  many  tapers  made  a 
luster  that  expelled  all  gloom,  and  only  the 
pale  face  of  the  queen  told  the  story  of  the 
secret  trouble,  the  growing  estrangement  be 
tween  her  and  the  king.  She  let  her  jewelled 


1 64  THE   HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

hand  rest  caressingly  on  Mistress  Wyatt's 
shoulder  while  she  talked. 

"How  ended  it,  Mary?"  she  asked  indul 
gently;  "you  make  a  long  tale  before  you 
come  to  the  pith  of  the  matter,  yet  we  know 
your  horoscope  was  cast  —  and  happily,  as  I 
think  it  should  be,  albeit  you  are  a  naughty 
rogue. " 

"Madam,  I  found  a  wizard  truly,"  Mrs. 
Wyatt  answered,  soberly  enough ;  "  indeed,  a 
king  of  wizards,  though  a  little  man." 

At  these  words  Betty  started  uneasily;  she 
hated  the  mention  of  a  wizard  since  the 
prophecy  of  the  scar. 

"  Little  in  measure,  sweetheart,  but  great  in 
power,  doubtless,"  said  the  queen. 

"  Your  grace  would  find  him  a  marvellous 
strange  character,"  Mrs.  Wyatt  answered; 
"when  I  sat  and  looked  at  him  and  heard  him 
tell  me  the  most  secret  thoughts  of  mine  own 
heart,  verily,  my  blood  ran  cold." 

"  Were  thy  secret  thoughts  so  evil,  Mary  ? " 
asked  Anne,  archly. 

"  It  mattered  not  what  they  were,  my  queen," 
Mary  Wyatt  said ;  "  it  was  his  manner  of  tell 
ing  them,  and  his  fearful  eyes  which  burnt 
into  my  brain." 

"The  girl    is   frightened,"  said   the  queen, 


THE  STRANGE  HOUSE  BY   THE    THAMES    165 

laughing;  "for  shame.     I  thought  you  a  brave 
heart." 

"Madam,  I  am  no  coward,  as  ye  know,"  her 
attendant  answered  with  spirit;  "but  the  man 
is  gruesome,  and  he  has  tales  and  prophecies 
that  are  marvellous  to  hear." 

"What  is  he  like?  "  asked  Anrie,  curiously. 

"  He  is  short  and  bandy-legged,  and  has  a 
countenance  like  a  wolf's,  with  great  black  eyes 
that  burn  like  fire." 

"  'T  is  Sanders, "  said  Betty  Carew ;  "  Zachary 
Sanders,  the  great  wizard." 

The  queen  turned  quickly  toward  her. 

"  Where  didst  thou  see  him  ?  "  she  asked. 

Mistress  Betty  hesitated,  casting  a  doubtful 
glance  at  the  others. 

"Speak,"  said  Anne,  impatiently;  "here  all 
are  friends." 

"I  saw  him  at  Kimbolton,  madam,"  Betty 
answered  softly,  blushing  at  Mrs.  Wyatt's 
reproachful  glance. 

"Ah,  a  partisan  of  the  princess  dowager," 
exclaimed  Lady  Rochford,  with  contempt; 
"you  chose  poor  company,  Mistress  Wyatt, 
and  a  poor  adviser." 

"A  man  does  not  carry  his  politics  upon  his 
face,"  said  Mary  Wyatt,  indignantly,  "anymore 
than  his  heart  upon  his  sleeve." 


1 66  THE   HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"  Hush ! "  said  the  queen,  "  it  does  not 
matter.  Mistress  Carew,  how  came  he  to 
Kimbolton,  and  wherefore?" 

Betty  briefly  related  the  accidental  encounter 
at  the  Blue  Boar  and  the  exploit  of  the  piebald 
horse. 

"  Saw  he  the  queen  —  I  mean,  the  princess  ?  " 
Anne  asked  quickly. 

"Ay,  your  grace,"  Betty  replied;  "I  was 
sent  to  Sir  Edmund  to  crave  his  attendance  in 
our  private  rooms." 

"  A  ruse ! "  exclaimed  the  queen  at  once ; 
"the  rogue  lashed  your  horse  to  gain  some 
notice  from  Bedingfield.  How  thick  are  some 
brains  not  to  see  such  manceuvers  !  But  it  only 
interests  me  more  in  the  man.  Where  does 
he  live,  Mary?  what  manner  of  house  has  he?  " 

Mrs.  Wyatt,  abashed  at  her  unfortunate 
blunder  in  bringing  up  Queen  Catherine's 
affairs,  was  more  reluctant  to  answer. 

"  'T  is  a  gloomy  place  in  London,"  she  said, 
"and  would  little  interest  your  highness." 

"But  it  does  interest  me,  madam,"  Anne 
exclaimed,  with  a  touch  of  imperious  temper; 
"I  will  know  all  that  you  do." 

"  Having  said  so  much,  Wyatt,  there  is  no 
hurt  in  saying  all,"  remarked  Lady  Rochford, 
scornfully. 


THE  STRANGE  HOUSE   BY   THE    THAMES    1 67 

Mary  Wyatt  cast  a  glance  of  anger  and  dis 
like  at  the  woman  whom  she  deeply  distrusted, 
believing  her  untrue  to  the  queen,  but  she 
obeyed  Anne's  behest  and  told  the  rest  without 
further  demur. 

"The  house  is  in  London,"  she  said  calmly, 
"and  we  came  to  it  by  the  water-gate,  over  the 
which  is  set  a  great  image  of  an  owl.  The 
building  is  very  old;  'tis  said  that  William 
Rufus  built  it,  but  I  know  not;  it  is  dark  and 
tall  and  narrow,  for  there  have  been  two  stories 
added  to  the  original  two,  and  these  upper 
ones  are  graduated,  being  like  two  blocks  set 
on  the  house,  the  highest  being  the  least,  and 
the  roof  is  pointed  like  the  houses  that  I  saw 
at  Antwerp.  From  the  outside,  it  seems  as 
full  of  windows  as  a  sieve  is  full  of  holes,  and 
none  are  even,  but  within  't  is  dark  as  a  sepul- 
cher.  The  door  we  came  to,  which  faces  the 
river,  is  small  and  very  strong,  having  three 
cross  bars  of  iron  to  stay  the  wood,  and  on  it 
are  the  signs  of  the  zodiac,  and  above  it  the 
head  of  a  serpent.  The  house,  they  say,  hath 
five  doors,  albeit  you  may  find  but  three  with 
the  naked  eye;  but  verily  there  should  be  one 
opening  downward  for  the  convenience  of 
Satan.  When  you  are  admitted  there  are 
stairs  to  climb  up,  up,  to  the  third  story,  the 


1 68  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

first  of  the  two  little  ones.  Here  there  are 
three  rooms  all  draped,  and  here  he  receives 
you.  Above  only  his  favored  clients  go;  that 
upper  story  is  his  observatory,  from  whence  he 
says  he  reads  the  heavens  and  casts  your  horo 
scope.  Many  gruesome  things  he  has  there, 
a  treasury  of  horrors.  But  truly,  madam,  the 
man  is  marvellous  and  reads  the  mind  as  he 
doth  an  open  scroll." 

"I  will  see  this  marvel,"  said  the  queen, 
with  sudden  animation;  "I  will  go  to  this 
house  —  unknown  —  and  have  my  horoscope 
cast." 

"  Oh,  madam,  I  beseech  you  not ! "  cried 
Mrs.  Wyatt,  her  face  paling  with  some  appre 
hension  which  she  dared  not  tell ;  "  if  you  must 
see  him,  have  him  here,  as  becomes  you,  but 
not  there  —  not  there  ! " 

"Tush,  Mary!"  cried  the  queen,  her  whim 
taking  possession  of  her,  "you  are  a  fool! 
'T  will  be  a  mask  worth  playing.  Right  glad 
should  I  be  to  be  merry  for  one  hour;  we  will 
go  now  — at  once !  " 

"  Madam,  madam,  't  is  too  late  !  "  exclaimed 
Lady  Rochford;  "the  king's  grace  will  be  ill 
pleased." 

Anne  drew  herself  up  with  flashing  eyes. 

"Who   gave   you  charge   of   me,    my  Lady 


THE  STRANGE  HOUSE  BY   THE    THAMES    l6g 

Rochford?"  she  said  bitterly;  "am  I  the 
queen  or  you?  " 

Her  sister-in-law  winced  and  drew  back,  but 
she  bit  her  lip  in  passionate  anger  at  the 
rebuke. 

"Have  your  way,  madam,"  she  said  coldly; 
"we  are  but  your  servants." 

The  queen  turned  her  back  upon  her  with  a 
gesture  of  disdain. 

"Mary,"  she  said  to  Mrs.  Wyatt,  "go  you 
and  get  me  a  mask  and  a  sober  mantle  and 
hood;  and  you,  Mistress  Carew,  call  hither 
some  gentlemen  we  can  trust  to  escort  us ;  we 
shall  need  but  two  stout  serving  men  beside." 

"Madam,  who  shall  I  summon?"  Betty 
asked,  and  then  added  with  a  slight  hesitation, 
"Master  Simon  Raby?" 

The  queen  smiled  archly,  bringing  a  blush 
to  Betty's  cheek. 

"Ay,  my  girl,"  she  said;  "Master  Raby  and 
my  cousin,  Sir  Francis  Bryan." 

Despite  the  anger  of  Lady  Rochford  and  the 
evident  reluctance  of  Mrs.  Wyatt,  the  little 
party  was  soon  organized,  Anne  Boleyn  direct 
ing  all  things  with  feverish  gayety,  as  if  she 
snatched  at  any  prospect  of  entertainment  in 
her  hour  of  melancholy.  She  was  masked  and 
muffled  until  all  her  splendid  dress  was  hidden 


I7O  THE   HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

and  there  seemed  no  possibility  of  recognition. 
Then  she  made  each  maid  of  honor  assume  an 
equal  disguise,  and  escorted  by  Raby,  Bryan 
and  two  of  the  palace  yeomen,  she  set  out  in  a 
private  barge  upon  the  river.  It  was  yet  early 
in  the  evening,  and  the  moon  was  shining  with 
a  light  that  cast  a  whiteness  on  the  landscape. 
The  voyage  up  the  river  was  swift  and  unevent 
ful,  although  the  queen  pretended  to  anticipate 
an  encounter  with  the  royal  barge,  as  the  king 
might  be  on  his  way  to  Greenwich.  However, 
they  passed  but  few  craft,  and  came  at  last  to 
the  water-gate  of  the  strange  house  upon  the 
Thames.  As  Mrs.  Wyatt  had  described  it, 
there  it  stood  with  its  two  upper  stories  in 
tiers,  and  its  many  windows  like  bandaged 
eyes,  for  every  shutter  was  up  and  not  a  ray  of 
light  shone  anywhere;  the  moon  shining  upon 
the  opposite  side  made  the  face  toward  the  river 
black  as  night.  The  little  party  found  the 
wicket  at  the  water-stairs  unfastened  and,  after 
some  curious  glances  at  the  imperfectly  out 
lined  owl  above  it,  the  visitors  passed  on  across 
the  garden,  Mistress  Wyatt  showing  them  the 
door,  which  was  hard  to  find  in  the  niches  of 
the  wall.  Raby  struck  a  resounding  summons 
on  it  with  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  waking  echoes 
within  the  house,  but  there  was  no  response. 


THE  STRANGE  HOUSE  BY  THE    THAMES    171 

The  wind  from  the  water  was  keen  and  the 
place  so  forbidding  that  the  queen  began  to 
shiver  under  her  mantle. 

"  'T  is  cold,"  she  murmured;  "  I  should  have 
worn  my  partlet  of  sable  skins  and  my  muffy. 
Knock  louder,  Master  Raby;  the  fleshy  ears 
of  wizards  are  ever  deaf,  I  take  it." 

The  summons  was  repeated  with  more  clamor 
than  before,  but  still  no  sound  within. 

"Mary,  thy  bandy-legged  sage  is  dead,  or 
gone  to  visit  the  black  man,"  said  the  queen, 
impatiently.  "The  place  smells  like  a  grave; 
't  is  an  ill-favored  house.  Bryan,  bring  the 
two  knaves  from  the  water-gate  and  force  the 
door;  I  will  not  have  this  rogue  bar  out  the 
Queen  of  England." 

As  she  spoke,  the  door  opened  suddenly  and 
silently,  revealing  a  dimly  lighted,  seemingly 
endless  stairway,  but  there  was  no  human 
being  in  sight. 


CHAPTER   XV 

A    CRY   OF    TREASON 

THE  little  party  at  the  wizard's  door  stood  a 
moment  confounded  by  this  mysterious  response 
to  their  summons.  They  looked  anxiously  up 
the  narrow  flight  of  stairs,  expecting  to  see 
the  strange  master  of  the  house,  but  there  was 
neither  sign  nor  sound  of  human  occupation. 
The  more  superstitious  of  the  party  drew  back 
in  alarm. 

"'Tis  magic,"  said  Lady  Rochford,  with  a 
shudder;  "let  us  leave  this  evil  place!" 

Simon  Raby  laughed.  "Have  no  fear,"  he 
said  lightly;  "'tis  but  an  act  of  mummery  to 
frighten  the  ignorant.  Madam,"  he  added, 
turning  to  the  queen,  "  will  your  grace 
ascend  ? " 

"Ay,  surely,"  replied  Anne,  with  forced 
gayety,  for  the  aspect  of  the  place  disturbed 
her;  "we  did  not  come  so  far  to  turn  back  like 
frightened  children.  My  Lady  Rochford,  if 
you  are  afraid,  you  may  even  stay  without  with 
my  two  grooms." 


A    CRY  OF  TREASON  173 

"I  thank  you,  madam,"  her  sister-in-law 
retorted  tartly;  "I  appreciate  the  company  to 
which  you  assign  me,  but  I  am  brave  enough 
to  follow  where  my  sovereign  leads." 

"Good  lack!"  said  Anne,  laughing  bitterly; 
"  how  hapless  should  I  be  to  lose  so  brave  an 
attendant!  Come,  Francis,"  she  added,  turn 
ing  to  her  cousin,  "you  and  Master  Raby  lead 
the  way  and  we  five  women  will  follow,  and 
remember  that  here  I  am  not  a  queen,  but  only 
Mistress  Anne." 

"Madam,  your  will  is  law,"  replied  Bryan; 
but  although  he  had  smiled  at  the  fears  of  the 
women,  he  loosened  his  sword  in  the  scabbard 
before  he  led  the  way  up  the  narrow  stairs, 
followed  closely  by  the  queen,  who  was  assisted 
by  Master  Raby,  and  behind  these  three  came 
the  four  maids  of  honor,  while  the  two  yeomen 
remained  at  the  door. 

The  tedious  ascent  of  the  long  staircase  was 
made  slowly,  the  queen  stopping  once  or  twice 
to  complain  that  she  was  short  of  breath,  being 
really  discouraged  from  her  plan  but  too  wil 
ful  to  surrender  her  whim.  The  stairs  went 
straight  up  between  two  blank  walls,  having 
no  landings  or  doors  opening  upon  them.  The 
steps  were  imperfectly  lighted  with  tapers  set 
in  iron  brackets  at  intervals  all  the  way  up. 


1/4  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"I  marvel  if  Jacob's  ladder  was  any  longer," 
said  the  queen,  laughing,  as  they  came  at  last 
to  the  top. 

At  the  head  of  the  stairs  a  heavy  curtain  of 
black  velvet  hung  before  them,  shutting  off 
the  rooms  beyond.  Sir  Francis  Bryan,  lifting 
it,  held  the  folds  aside  that  the  queen's  party 
might  enter,  and  thus  revealed  a  brightly 
lighted  room  decorated  with  dark  tapestries 
and  carpeted  with  ray-cloth.  It  was  richly 
furnished,  and  on  the  table  in  the  center  stood 
a  great  crystal  ball.  From  this  room  a  short 
flight  of  stairs  went  up  to  the  upper  story,  a 
narrow  pointed  door  at  the  top  cutting  off  the 
view. 

"We  must  conjure  the  wizard,  it  seems," 
Simon  Raby  said,  as  they  looked  about  them 
at  the  empty  room;  and  taking  a  few  steps  up 
the  narrow  stair,  he  struck  the  little  door  with 
his  fist,  after  trying  in  vain  to  open  it. 

It  was  instantly  unfastened,  and  the  wizard 
himself  stood  on  the  threshold.  Taken  by 
surprise,  Raby  recoiled  a  step  at  the  startling 
vision.  The  little  man  was  arrayed  in  blood 
red  from  head  to  foot,  his  velvet  doublet 
heavily  embroidered  in  black,  and  on  his 
breast,  sparkling  like  an  evil  eye,  was  a  splen 
did  opal.  He  viewed  his  uninvited  guests 


A    CRY  OF  TREASON  175 

calmly,  his  keen  glance  instantly  singling  out 
the  queen,  though  she  had  drawn  back  behind 
the  others.  Sanders  smiled,  coming  down  the 
steps  to  meet  them. 

"Sir  Francis  Bryan  and  Master  Raby,  you 
are  welcome,"  he  said  quietly;  "these  ladies, 
I  see,  would  not  be  called  by  their  names,  but, 
even  unknown,  they  are  also  welcome." 

"We  have  come  here  for  entertainment  and 
instruction,  Sir  Wizard,"  Raby  said,  seeing 
the  hesitation  of  his  companions;  "'tis  for 
your  art  to  furnish  it." 

"Ay,"  replied  the  wizard  calmly,  his  bril 
liant  black  eyes  still  fixed  upon  Anne  Boleyn, 
"  I  saw  you  when  you  came  down  to  the  water- 
stairs  at  Greenwich." 

The  queen  started  and  drew  her  mantle 
closer,  while  both  Lady  Rochford  and  Mistress 
Gaynsford  recoiled  in  superstitious  dread. 
Anxious  as  they  all  were  to  conceal  Anne's 
identity,  this  remark  threw  them  into  confusion. 
It  was  Betty  who  came  boldly  to  the  rescue. 

"Good  Master  Wizard,"  she  said,  "I  pray 
you  tell  us  our  fortunes." 

"Yours  I  have  already  told,  Mistress 
Carew, "  he  replied  with  a  smile. 

At  this  Betty,  too,  drew  back  in  amazement, 
but  Simon  Raby  reassured  her. 


1/6  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"He  knew  thy  voice,"  he  whispered;  "'tis 
but  child's  play,  have  no  fear." 

Alarmed  at  the  wizard's  knowledge,  Lady 
Rochford  had  laid  her  hand  on  the  queen's 
arm,  trying  to  draw  her  away,  but  Anne  shook 
her  off  with  impatience;  possessing  a  naturally 
intrepid  and  wilful  nature,  she  had  no  mind 
to  be  so  easily  balked  in  her  purpose.  She 
walked  over  to  the  table,  and  pointed  her 
finger  at  some  glass  instruments  and  a  scepter 
lying  there. 

"What  are  these,  sir?"  she  said  curiously, 
her  natural  taste  for  adventure  overcoming  her 
hesitation. 

"They  are  used  to  conjure  the  four  kings, 
madam,"  replied  the  wizard,  courteously;  "I 
will  gladly  show  you  more  curious  things." 

The  room  was  hung  with  every  gruesome 
evidence  of  his  trade,  and  as  he  spoke,  he 
opened  a  curiously  wrought  box  of  silver  to 
show  Anne  a  serpent  skin,  but  her  mind  was 
on  other  matters. 

"  Sir,"  she  said  abruptly,  "are  you  the  wizard 
who  consorted  so  freely  with  my  lord  privy  seal 
when  he  was  in  the  house  of  the  cardinal? " 

Sanders  was  too  keen  to  be  caught  in  the 
snare  that  she  had  set  for  him. 

"Nay,    madam,"  he   replied   coolly,   "great 


A    CRY  OF  TREASON  1 77 

men  have  come  to  me,  but  not  my  lord  privy 
seal.  Yonder  is  the  cardinal's  great  book," 
he  added,  pointing  to  a  tome  upon  a  cabinet, 
"and  this  is  a  ring  he  wore.  I  foretold  the 
day  that  he  would  sit  upon  a  mule,  with  his 
legs  bound  under  its  belly,  for  his  machina 
tions  against  the  queen's  grace;  but  he  heeded 
me  not,  and  lo,  the  end  was  accomplished  even 
as  I  said.  Whose  horoscope  shall  I  first  cast, 
fair  ladies?"  he  added,  bowing  to  the  group, 
for  the  others  had  gathered  eagerly  about  the 
queen. 

"Mine,"  answered  Anne,  laughing;  "'tis 
I  who  would  discern  the  future,  sir;  one,  at 
least,  of  these  good  dames  is  too  affrighted  to 
ask  her  fortune,"  she  added,  with  a  haughty 
glance  at  Lady  Rochford. 

"Madam,  I  pray  you,  think,"  protested  Mary 
Wyatt,  plucking  at  her  mantle;  but  the  queen 
withdrew  it  with  an  imperious  gesture. 

"I  am  happy  to  serve  you,"  said  the  wizard, 
blandly;  and  he  turned,  and  ascending  the 
little  stairway,  opened  the  door  above.  "Madam 
will  ascend,"  he  said,  "while  I  read  the 
stars." 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  Anne  went 
up  the  stairs,  and  her  maids  would  have  fol 
lowed  her,  but  Sanders  barred  the  way. 


178  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE   WJZARD 

"But  one  here,"  he  said  with  his  odd  smile; 
"more  would  destroy  the  spell." 

"I  will  go  with  her,"  cried  Mrs.  Wyatt,  too 
alarmed  and  suspicious  to  consider  her  words. 

"That  you  will  not,"  said  the  queen, 
haughtily;  "you  shall  not  spoil  my  entertain 
ment.  Remain  there,  good  friends,"  she 
added,  recollecting  her  disguise;  "we  must 
propitiate  the  sage.  Lead  on,  Sir  Wizard;  I 
will  follow." 

"Be  assured,  madam,  that  I  feel  the  honor 
of  the  visit,"  he  replied  complaisantly,  hold 
ing  the  door  open  for  her  to  enter  and  then 
shutting  it  deliberately  in  the  faces  of  her  dis 
comfited  escorts. 

"This  is  your  fault,  Mistress  Wyatt,"  cried 
Lady  Rochford,  angrily;  "and  if  harm  comes 
to  her,  you  will  rue  it ! " 

"Have  patience,  madam,"  said  Raby,  smil 
ing;  "what  harm  could  come  to  her  grace 
when  we  are  here?  and  why  should  the  little 
man  design  evil  against  her?  " 

"There  be  plenty  who  do  design  it,"  she 
replied  coldly,  "and  would  gladly  compass  it." 

"Ay,  those  who  are  jealous  of  her  beauty 
and  her  high  estate,"  said  Mary  Wyatt,  with  a 
hard  glance  at  Lady  Rochford,  who  affected 
not  to  notice  it. 


A    CRY  OF  TREASON  179 

"  'T  was  no  place  to  bring  her  in  her  nervous 
state,"  remarked  Mistress  Gaynsford;  "'tis 
enough  to  set  a  strong  man's  heart  beating. 
How  could  you  dream  of  it,  Mistress  Wyatt  ?  " 

"  Alas  !  "  said  Mary,  passionately,  "  't  is  hard 
that  I  who  greatly  love  the  queen's  grace 
should  be  held  charged  with  this  expedition. 
How  could  I  know  that  she  would  plan  it  ?  It 
was  as  unlocked  for  by  me  as  by  any  of  you, 
and  from  my  heart  I  do  regret  my  careless 
tongue  which  tripped  out  the  idle  story." 

"You  are  not  to  blame,"  said  Betty,  with 
generous  warmth;  "'tis  a  shame  to  charge  it 
on  you.  The  queen  was  bent  upon  some 
change,  some  diversion.  I  know  this  man 
Sanders,  and  truly  I  do  not  fear  that  he  will 
offend  her  grace,  for  I  believe  he  knows  her." 

"He  hath  the  eye  of  a  ferret,"  remarked  Sir 
Francis,  "and  with  you,  Mistress  Carew,  I 
think  he  will  be  careful;  he  knows  that  it 
would  cost  little  to  split  his  gullet  if  he 
designed  evil." 

They  stood  grouped  about  the  steps,  too 
anxious  to  retire  from  them,  yet  each  trying  to 
put  a  good  face  on  the  matter.  Having  been 
recognized,  Betty  had  removed  her  mask  and 
stood  farthest  from  the  stairs.  There  was  an 
uneasy  pause  as  they  waited,  and  in  it  they 


I  SO  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

heard  a  step  at  the  outer  entrance ;  before  they 
could  decide  how  to  receive  a  new-comer,  the 
black  curtain  was  lifted,  and  Sir  Barton  Henge 
entered  the  room. 

"How  did  he  pass  the  guard  below?"  whis 
pered  Bryan  to  Raby,  and  both  looked  askance 
at  the  intruder,  Raby's  face  flushing  with  anger. 

Recognizing  at  once  that  this  was  a  party 
from  the  palace,  Henge  made  a  graceful  obei 
sance  to  the  women,  and  was  greeted  both  by 
Lady  Rochford  and  Mistress  Gaynsford  with 
some  show  of  cordiality.  Divining,  doubtless, 
who  was  within  the  wizard's  secret  chamber, 
he  took  his  place  amongst  them,  but  singled 
out  Betty  Carew  as  the  object  of  his  attention. 
Approaching  the  young  girl,  he  began  to 
whisper  to  her  in  spite  of  her  indignant  gesture 
of  disdain.  Her  instinctive  horror  of  him 
gaining  control  of  her  already  agitated  mind, 
she  shrank  farther  into  the  corner,  casting  an 
appealing  glance  at  Simon  Raby,  who  instantly 
responded.  He  pushed  roughly  past  Sir  Barton 
and  began  to  talk  to  Betty,  turning  his  back 
squarely  in  the  face  of  her  less  favored  wooer. 
Henge  paused  a  moment  astounded,  his  face 
crimson  with  wrath,  and  then  he  plucked  Raby 
by  the  sleeve.  Simon  turned  upon  him  with 
an  air  that  was  in  itself  an  insult. 


A    CRY  OF  TREASON  l8l 

"Sir,"  he  said,  "was  it  you,  or  the  devil,  that 
touched  my  sleeve? " 

"  It  had  better  have  been  the  devil  for  your 
sake,  Master  Raby,"  cried  Henge,  fiercely.  "I 
was  speaking  to  Mistress  Carew;  mayhap  you 
are  blind  and  deaf  and  knew  it  not." 

"And  I  am  speaking  to  her  now,"  said 
Raby,  with  a  mocking  laugh ;  "  therefore,  sir, 
go  to  the  devil ! " 

Henge  laid  his  hand  upon  his  sword. 

"You  will  answer  for  this  insult,"  he  said. 
"  I  would  have  you  know  that  Mistress  Carew 
is  my  affianced  wife." 

At  this,  Betty  came  forward,  her  face  white 
but  her  eyes  on  fire. 

"I  call  you  all  to  witness  the  baseness  of 
this  man,"  she  said.  "When  I  was  yet  unborn 
a  dishonorable  and  wicked  contract  was  made 
that  he  now  claims  against  me.  I  utterly 
repudiate  it,  and  my  uncle,  Sir  William  Carew, 
of  Mohun's  Ottery,  doth  uphold  me.  I  swear, 
and  Heaven  is  my  witness,  that  I  would  rather 
mate  with  the  veriest  beggar  at  Saint  Paul's 
Cross  than  wed  with  this  man !  " 

"And  none  but  a  coward  and  a  villain  would 
pursue  so  base  a  claim  ! "  said  Raby ;  and  draw 
ing  off  his  embroidered  glove,  he  struck  it 
full  upon  Sir  Barton's  face. 


1 82  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

In  an  instant  Henge's  sword  flew  from  the 
scabbard ;  but  Sir  Francis  Bryan,  springing  on 
him  as  suddenly,  snatched  it  away  and  snapped 
it  asunder. 

"  Hell  and  damnation  !  "  cried  Sir  Barton,  "  I 
will  have  satisfaction." 

"Not  here  or  now,"  exclaimed  Bryan,  in  a 
tone  of  authority. 

But  even  as  he  spoke,  they  were  startled  by 
a  shriek  so  shrill,  so  agonized,  that  their  hearts 
stood  still. 

" 'T  is  the  queen's  voice,"  screamed  Mary, 
forgetful  of  everything  but  her  beloved  mis 
tress. 

"Help!  —  treason,  treason!"  shrieked  the 
queen,  in  a  tone  of  anguish. 

They  dashed  up  the  stairs,  jostling  each 
other  in  their  eagerness ;  but  Mistress  Wyatt 
outstripped  them  all,  and  was  the  first  to  enter 
the  mysterious  chamber.  Here  a  strange  sight 
met  their  eyes.  It  was  a  large  square  room, 
the  roof  of  glass  and  the  walls  hung  with 
crimson.  There  was  no  furniture  in  it  but  a 
great  mirror  that  was  opposite  the  door.  In 
the  center  of  the  place  stood  Queen  Anne;  she 
had  dropped  her  mantle  and  mask,  and  was 
revealed  in  her  splendid  dress  of  white  and 
silver;  her  long  hair  had  escaped  its  bonds 


A    CRY  OF  TREASON  183 

and  hung  wildly  about  her  deathlike  face. 
She  looked  more  like  a  corpse  than  one  alive, 
save  for  her  eyes,  which  were  dilated  with  the 
terror  of  a  mad  woman.  Before  her,  calm  and 
unruffled,  stood  the  strange  figure  of  the  wizard, 
looking  at  her  in  mild  surprise. 

"Treason!"  she  cried  again,  as  her  attend 
ants  burst  into  the  room ;  "  he  is  a  traitor ! 
Seize  him,  gentlemen,  bind  him,  in  the  king's 
name!" 

Raby  already  had  his  hand  on  the  wizard's 
collar  and  had  drawn  his  sword,  but  Sanders 
was  calm. 

"Her  grace  is  overwrought,"  he  said  coolly. 
"She  asked  to  look  into  the  future;  I  but 
obeyed  her  behest." 

"God's  death!"  shrieked  the  queen,  with  a 
recurrence  of  her  anguish,  "he  would  have 
slain  me,  gentlemen  !  " 

"Madam,  I  do  beseech  you,  do  me  justice," 
protested  the  wizard.  "  I  laid  no  finger  on 
you,  nor  intended  harm  to  a  hair  of  your  royal 
head.  Your  grace  should  believe  that  I  can 
but  reveal,  and  not  alter  destiny." 

The  queen  stood  a  moment  staring  at  him 
wildly,  and  then,  despite  Mistress  Wyatt's 
supporting  arm,  she  fell  forward  on  her  knees, 
pressing  her  hands  over  her  face. 


1 84  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE   WIZARD 

"Alas!"  she  said,  "the  sight  will  kill 
me." 

"Call  the  Captain  of  the  Guard,"  cried  Lady 
Rochford;  "the  villain  hath  bewitched  the 
queen;  she  faints,  she  dies!" 

Both  Mary  Wyatt  and  Betty  were  supporting 
Anne's  sinking  form. 

"  Madam,  I  pray  you  remember  that  you  are 
the  Queen  of  England,"  whispered  her  favor 
ite,  looking  in  agony  at  the  white  face  of  her 
mistress. 

"The  traitor  has  poisoned  her!"  exclaimed 
Sir  Francis ;  "  he  shall  hang  at  Tyburn !  " 

"I  swear  I  have  not  harmed  her,"  retorted 
Sanders,  casting  an  anxious  glance  at  the 
stricken  woman. 

Aroused  by  Mary  Wyatt's  passionate  en 
treaties,  Anne  opened  her  eyes,  and  seeing  the 
wizard  held  by  Raby  and  the  furious  faces  of 
her  attendants,  she  rallied  her  sinking  powers. 

"  Loose  him,"  she  said  faintly.  "  I  was  mad 
at  a  fearful  vision;  I  would  not  have  this 
matter  bruited  abroad;  men  shall  not  jeer  at 
Anne  Boleyn." 

Making  a  great  effort,  she  rose  to  her  feet, 
and  stood,  supported  by  her  maids. 

"Sir  Wizard,"  she  said  coldly,  "has  it 
availed  to  conjure  hell  to  fright  a  feeble 


A    CRY  OF  TREASON  1 8$ 

woman?  I  forgive  you,  but  'tis  my  mercy 
shelters  you  from  the  wrath  of  my  lord  the 
king." 

"  He  shall  to  jail,  madam ! "  exclaimed 
Raby. 

"Nay,  I  charge  you,  loose  him  and  depart 
with  me,"  she  said,  with  sudden  majesty  of 
demeanor;  "it  was  my  folly  to  come  here. 
Lend  me  your  aid,  Cousin  Francis;  my  limbs 
tremble  beneath  me,  but  my  heart  is  stout." 

She  took  but  two  steps,  however,  before  she 
tottered,  so  that  Bryan  almost  carried  her  from 
the  room,  followed  by  her  maids  like  a  flock  of 
startled  pigeons.  As  they  departed,  Henge 
stepped  in  front  of  Raby. 

"At  what  hour  and  place,  sir?"  he  asked 
fiercely. 

Raby  laughed  scornfully.  "To-morrow  at 
sunrise,  at  the  tryst  beyond  the  palace  park," 
he  answered  lightly,  and  ran  down  the  steps  to 
overtake  the  royal  party. 

When  he  reached  the  water-gate,  the  almost 
unconscious  queen  had  been  already  laid  in 
the  stern  of  the  barge,  her  head  resting  in  the 
lap  of  Mary  Wyatt.  And  the  slow  journey 
back  began  in  silence,  the  attendants  all  being 
too  alarmed  for  conversation.  The  moonlight 
still  shone  upon  the  waters  and  fell  full  on  the 


1 86  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

deathlike  face  of  Anne  Boleyn,  but  there  was 
no  sound  save  the  soft  dip  of  the  oars  in  the 
river. 

A  few  hours  later,  her  three  maids  of  honor, 
Lady  Rochford,  Mistress  Gaynsford,  and  Betty, 
sat  around  the  fire  in  the  anteroom  of  the 
queen's  chamber,  anxiously  awaiting  tidings  of 
her  condition.  Within,  an  old  and  skilled 
nurse  and  Mrs.  Wyatt  labored  to  still  Anne's 
hysterics.  For  she  had  wept  and  laughed  at 
intervals  ever  since  she  regained  consciousness. 
They  feared  to  call  the  court  physician,  lest 
the  escapade  should  reach  the  ears  of  the  king, 
and  it  was  long  before  the  royal  patient  sank 
into  repose.  Her  cries  and  weird  laughter 
had  been  hushed  for  half  an  hour,  when  the 
door  opened  silently,  and  Mary  Wyatt  came 
out  with  a  look  of  horror  on  her  face.  So 
strange  was  her  expression  that  it  hushed  the 
anxious  inquiries  upon  the  lips  of  the  others. 
She  came  to  the  fire,  and  falling  on  her  knees, 
gazed  into  it  while  she  told  her  story  in  a 
strange  voice,  and  the  superstition  of  the  age 
held  her  listeners  in  a  spell  of  terror. 

"She  has  told  me  all,"  she  said;  "that  evil 
man  —  that  prince  of  devils  —  cast  her  horo 
scope,  and  told  her  that  her  end  would  be  as 
much  in  shame  and  misery  as  her  present 


A    CRY  OF   TREASON  187 

state  was  lofty.  This,  pretending  that  he 
knew  not  the  queen,  the  lying  jackal !  Then 
he  caused  her  to  look  into  that  mirror  —  you 
saw  it  opposite  the  door  —  he  told  her  that  it 
was  enchanted  and  would  show  her  her  life. 
He  chanted  an  incantation  while  the  poor  lady 
looked  and  saw,  she  says,  every  event  of  her 
life;  and  some,  she  swears,  were  known  to 
none.  She  saw  her  childhood  at  Hever;  her 
journey  to  France  with  Queen  Mary;  her 
sojourn  there  at  court,  with  Mary  and  with 
Queen  Claude.  She  saw  her  life  in  Cath 
erine's  court,  the  love  of  the  gallant  Percy, 
Wolsey's  interference;  the  visits  of  the  king's 
grace  to  Hever  —  she  saith  it  was  the  king's 
very  face  and  walk  before  he  had  the  swelling 
in  his  legs.  Then  she  beheld  the  glorious 
pageant  of  her  coronation;  saw  herself,  young 
and  lovely,  kneeling  to  Cranmer  for  Saint 
Edward's  crown.  After  this  a  black  veil  hung 
over  the  mirror;  the  wizard  knelt  and  mumbled, 
making  passes,  when  of  a  sudden  the  veil 
lifted,  and  she  saw  —  oh,  heaven !  why  took  I 
the  queen  to  such  a  devil?"  For  a  moment 
Mary  Wyatt  was  choked  by  sobs,  and  then 
she  whispered  the  rest,  so  low  that  the  others 
knelt  about  her  to  hear,  all  their  faces  stricken 
with  awe  of  the  supernatural. 


1 88  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"She  saw,"  continued  the  sorrowful  woman, 

—  "  she  saw  the  Tower  green,  and  by  the  block 
were  my  lord  privy  seal,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
his  grace  of  Richmond,  the  king's  son.     From 
the  Tower  came  Sir  William  Kingston  leading 

—  the   queen    herself.      'Twas   her  face,    her 
form,  her  gait,  her  image,  clad  in  black  with  a 
white  cape  upon  her  shoulders,  and  behind  her 
came  I  and   three   others  weeping.     She   saw 
herself  speak,  kneel  down,  and  as  the  axe  fell, 
she  shrieked  in  mortal  agony;  and  in  a  moment 
the  mirror  was  blank,  and  no  one  with  her  but 
the  conjurer." 


CHAPTER    XVI 

MY    LADY    CRABTREE    TO    THE    RESCUE 

IN  the  gallery  adjoining  the  apartments  of 
the  queen,  Simon  Raby  waited  for  tidings  of 
her  condition,  and  also  for  a  glimpse  of  Mis 
tress  Betty.  Francis  Bryan  had  been  called 
away  to  attend  upon  the  king.  Henry  had 
returned  to  Greenwich,  but  made  no  inquiry 
for  his  consort,  for  of  late  they  had  met  only 
in  public. 

Raby  walked  alone  in  the  lofty  gallery,  pac 
ing  to  and  fro,  with  his  arms  folded  on  his 
breast  and  his  head  bent  in  thought.  He 
came  of  a  brave  race,  and  showed  it  in  his  gal 
lant  bearing  and  the  fine  expression  of  his  face. 
Trained  from  boyhood  for  a  soldier,  as  every 
English  boy  was  in  those  days,  he  had  seen 
service  both  in  France  and  Ireland,  and  was 
esteemed  a  courageous  and  keen-witted  officer, 
if  somewhat  reckless.  Reared  in  a  worldly 
school,  he  had  led  a  gay  and  careless  life;  but 
there  were  too  fine  elements  of  manhood  in 
him  to  be  choked  by  the  evil  that  in  many 


IQO  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

natures,  under  such  influences,  shoots  up  more 
rapidly  than  the  good.  None  of  his  family 
were  living  except  his  father,  and  death  was 
soon  to  sever  that  last  tie.  Among  all  the 
beauties  of  the  court  who  had  won  his  fancy 
and  even  touched  his  heart,  none  had  ever 
seemed  so  charming  as  the  penniless  orphan 
whom  fate  had  made  an  attendant  upon  Queen 
Anne.  His  admiration  kindled  by  the  beauty 
of  Betty's  face  had  swiftly  grown  into  the  pro 
portions  of  a  far  deeper  passion  than  he  had 
ever  known,  and  his  generous  nature,  too,  was 
touched  by  the  peculiar  hardships  of  her  situa 
tion.  For  forgetting  her  lack  of  dower  he 
deserved  no  great  credit,  since  a  man  like 
Barton  Henge  could  also  be  completely  dazzled 
by  the  young  girl's  personal  loveliness. 

As  Raby  walked  there  in  the  gallery,  he 
gave  no  thought  to  his  appointment  with 
Henge;  a  duel  was  a  matter  of  too  common 
occurrence  in  his  adventurous  life  to  be  of  any 
particular  moment.  He  was  an  expert  swords 
man,  and  his  contempt  for  his  adversary's 
character  was  so  great  that  he  underrated  his 
skill  and  regarded  him  as  no  very  dangerous 
foe. 

After  the  queen's  return,  her  shrieks  were 
audible  even  in  the  place  where  Raby  walked; 


MY  LADY  CRAB  TREE    TO    THE  RESCUE     191 

but  they  were  hushed  at  last,  and  in  the 
stillness  he  heard  the  great  clock  of  the 
palace  striking  twelve.  He  went  to  a  case 
ment,  and  throwing  it  open,  looked  out  upon 
the  night.  The  moon  was  setting  and  a  few 
soft  clouds  drifted  above  it ;  below,  the  park 
was  full  of  black  shadows,  and  in  the  distance 
the  hounds  of  the  royal  pack  bayed  in  a  melan 
choly  monotone.  The  strange  adventures  of 
the  evening  might  well  have  stirred  hardier 
nerves,  and  Raby  shared  the  superstitions  of 
the  times.  The  weird  black  and  white  out 
lines  of  the  scene  oppressed  him;  it  seemed  to 
him  that  a  calamity  hung  over  the  palace,  and 
the  queen's  wild  cries  still  rang  in  his  ears. 
He  closed  the  casement  sharply  and  turned  just 
as  the  door  opened,  and  Mistress  Carew  came 
in  alone.  A  glance  at  her  pale  face  told  him 
that  something  unusually  painful  had  occurred. 

"  How  fares  the  queen  ? "  he  asked  eagerly. 

"She  sleeps  at  last,"  Betty  replied;  "but 
she  has  been  in  a  grievous  state,  crying  and 
laughing  like  a  mad  woman,  and  would  take  no 
comfort.  She  told  her  fearful  vision  to  Mis 
tress  Wyatt,  and  't  is  no  wonder  that  she  is  so 
distressed ;  "  and  with  an  awed  face  and  agitated 
voice  she  went  on  to  tell  Raby  of  the  mirror 
and  its  dark  revelations. 


1 92  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"I  remember,"  she  said,  in  conclusion,  "that 
he  made  this  prophecy  to  Queen  Catherine  at 
Kimbolton,  or  something  very  like  it;  and 
when  her  maids  would  have  upbraided  this 
queen,  she  said  that  they  would  soon  have 
cause  to  pity  her  and  lament  her  case." 

"  Some  estrangement  there  is  between  the 
king's  grace  and  Queen  Anne,"  Raby  answered 
in  a  low  tone;  "but  I  take  it  for  a  lovers' 
quarrel,  and  no  more.  As  for  this  vision,  that 
wizard  should  be  jailed  for  it.  What  need 
had  he  to  so  torment  the  unhappy  lady? 
Doubtless  he  is  of  the  party  favoring  the  Lady 
Mary  and  would  right  gladly  drive  the  queen 
to  madness.  Conspiracy  is  everywhere,  and 
the  death  of  Catherine  has  but  discouraged  it 
for  a  moment;  the  papists  are  openly  discon 
tent,  and  there  is  a  great  faction  among  the 
nobility,  who  hate  my  lord  privy  seal.  We 
may  be  sure  that  this  wizard  is  among  the 
plotters,  and  had  I  any  doubt  of  it,  't  would  be 
removed  by  the  appearance  there  of  Henge, 
who,  I  believe,  is  up  to  the  elbows  in  these 
treasons,  albeit  he  hath  yet  the  ear  of  Crom 
well." 

A  wave  of  color  swept  over  Betty's  face  at 
the  mention  of  the  obnoxious  name. 

"Master  Raby,"  she  said,  with   embarrass- 


MY  LADY  CRAB  TREE    TO    THE  RESCUE     193 

ment  in  her  tone,  "  I  have  to  thank  you  for 
coming  to  my  aid  this  night,  but  I  was  most 
unhappy  to  provoke  a  quarrel  between  you  and 
that  man,  who  is  unworthy  of  your  notice." 

"And  did  you  dream  that  I  would  stand  by 
to  see  you  annoyed  by  the  rogue?  "  he  answered 
lightly;  "I  would  sooner  break  his  neck." 

"And  I  would  not  grieve  were  it  broken, 
sir,"  she  said,  "though  I  would  not  rejoice  to 
cause  the  death  of  any  man,  however  vile. 
Master  Raby,  I  pray  you,  let  the  matter  go  no 
further;  there  is  no  need  for  you  to  accept  a 
challenge  from  a  rogue." 

Willing  to  conceal  the  true  state  of  affairs, 
Raby  smiled. 

"  We  will  not  speak  of  that  which  pains  you, 
Mistress  Carew,"  he  said  cheerfully.  "A  flog 
ging  at  Saint  Paul's  Cross  would  better  serve 
the  knave  than  to  meet  a  gentleman,  albeit 
Henge  is  of  noble  blood." 

Mistress  Betty  gave  him  a  searching  glance. 
Accustomed  to  the  clash  of  swords  and  to  many 
a  wild  scene  in  Devon,  she  had  but  few  femi 
nine  fears,  yet  her  heart  throbbed  at  the 
thought  of  a  sword-thrust  in  the  breast  of  this 
brave  gentleman. 

"You  are  going  to  fight  him,"  she  said  in  a 
low  voice,   "and   for   me.     Alas!   I  was   both 
13 


194  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

foolish  and  wicked  to  provoke  the  quarrel;  sir, 
I  pray  you  to  forbear." 

Their  eyes  met,  and  she  saw  a  light  shining 
in  Raby's  that  a  duller  woman  could  have  read. 
A  sweet  confusion  made  her  stand  blushing 
like  a  timid  child. 

"  And  if  I  draw  not  my  sword  in  your  quarrel, 
for  whom  shall  I  draw  it?  "  he  said  in  a  softer 
tone.  "Fear  not,  Mistress  Carew,  the  rogue 
shall  have  a  just  chastisement;  't  is  not  worthy 
of  a  thought  of  yours,  yet  I  rejoice  to  think 
that  what  I  do  is  not  a  matter  of  indifference 
to  you. " 

Betty  looked  up  bravely.  "Sir,"  she  mur 
mured,  "  I  shall  never  forgive  myself  if  you 
take  hurt  in  my  cause.  I  pray  you  let  him  go; 
'twas  you  who  were  the  aggressor,  and  there 
can  be  no  dishonor  in  counting  the  matter  too 
unworthy  for  your  notice.  For  my  sake,  since 
I  made  the  offence,  I  do  beseech  you  leave  the 
quarrel  to  oblivion." 

Raby  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it  passion 
ately.  "For  thy  sake,  mistress,  I  would  do 
all  save  lose  my  honor,"  he  whispered  tenderly. 

Betty  drew  away  her  hand  with  a  crimson 
face  just  as  Mary  Wyatt  and  Lady  Rochford 
came  from  the  queen's  room,  and  so  interrupted 
the  tender  little  scene. 


MY  LADY  CRAB  TREE    TO    THE  RESCUE     195 

"  Master  Raby,  I  pray  you  do  me  the  cour 
tesy  to  bear  this  missive  to  Sir  Francis,"  Mrs. 
Wyatt  said  in  a  weary  voice;  "and  then  I 
trust  that  we  may  all  sleep  sound  till  morning 
dawns,  and  so  try  to  forget  this  agony." 

"Has  the  king  come?"  asked  Lady  Roch- 
ford ;  "they  told  me  that  his  grace  came  late 
last  night." 

"And  so  he  did,  madam,"  Raby  replied,  as 
he  took  Mary  Wyatt's  missive  and,  with  a 
salutation  which  included  all,  although  his  eyes 
sought  Betty's,  he  left  the  gallery  to  do  his 
errand. 

"To  bed,  to  bed!"  said  Lady  Rochford, 
when  the  three  women  were  alone;  "I  am 
well  nigh  faint  for  lack  of  sleep." 

As  they  walked  together  to  their  cham 
bers,  Betty  turned  thoughtfully  to  Mrs. 
Wyatt. 

"Where  was  the  king's  grace  to-day?"  she 
asked  in  a  low  voice. 

"I  know  not,"  retorted  Mary  Wyatt,  in  a 
bitter  tone,  "but  doubtless  with  that  trollop 
Seymour!" 

Betty  asked  no  more  questions,  but  went  to 
her  own  room  and  said  a  prayer  for  the  protec 
tion  of  Simon  Raby  from  the  man  she  hated; 
and  after  tossing  for  a  while  upon  her  pillow, 


196  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

fell  asleep  at  last,  as  the  first  light  of  the 
winter  morning  dawned  in  a  gray  sky. 

A  little  later,  when  the  sun  was  rising,  its 
rays  shining  but  faintly  through  the  heavy 
mist  that  was  hanging  over  the  scene,  making 
the  tall  trees  of  Greenwich  Park  loom  like 
spectral  giants  through  the  folds  of  vapor, 
Simon  Raby  set  out  alone  to  keep  his  engage 
ment  with  Sir  Barton  Henge.  Armed  only 
with  his  rapier  and  muffled  in  a  heavy  cloak, 
he  walked  leisurely  away  from  the  palace,  and 
proceeded  through  the  more  lonely  portions  of 
the  park  toward  the  river.  His  depression  of 
the  night  before  had  passed  with  the  darkness; 
Queen  Anne's  vision  concerned  him  too  little 
to  disturb  his  thoughts  longer.  As  he  passed 
beyond  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  palace, 
he  quickened  his  steps.  Even  at  that  early 
hour  there  was  the  stir  of  a  great  establish 
ment  awakening;  he  met  a  company  of  cooks 
and  scullions  running  toward  the  royal  kitchens, 
and  several  messengers  rode  out  post-haste,  for 
the  day's  errands  began  early. 

The  spot  appointed  for  the  meeting  was  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  park  near  the  river,  and 
took  Raby  through  the  loneliest  places.  The 
morning  fog  cut  off  his  vision  beyond  a  short 
circuit  as  he  advanced  under  the  trees,  and 


LADY  CRAB  TREE    TO    THE  RESCUE     197 

after  a  while  all  sounds  from  the  palace  ceased 
to  reach  his  ears.  His  path  grew  narrow  as  he 
came  in  sight  of  the  river  and  was  surrounded 
by  a  low  thicket  where  the  underbrush  had  not 
been  cleared  away.  The  beautiful  face  and 
dark  eyes  of  Mistress  Betty  filled  his  mental 
vision,  and  he  walked  on,  careless  of  possible 
danger  from  a  treacherous  foe;  it  was  not  in 
his  nature  to  take  any  precaution  for  his  own 
safety.  He  was  scarce  twenty  yards  from  the 
trysting-place  when  there  was  a  crackling  of 
dead  branches  on  either  side  of  him,  and  two 
masked  men  sprang  out  upon  him.  Unprepared 
as  he  was  for  the  onslaught,  he  was  too  bold  a 
soldier  to  be  disconcerted,  and  his  sword  flew 
from  the  scabbard.  Being  swift  of  foot  and 
agile,  he  evaded  the  heavier  of  his  two  assail 
ants,  and  getting  his  back  against  a  tree,  made 
a  fair  defence.  But  it  was  two  to  one,  and  he 
had  small  chance  to  escape,  and  saw  it.  In 
the  desperate  struggle  which  ensued,  he  had 
no  time  save  to  parry  the  blows  which  were 
aimed  at  his  throat.  Then,  remembering  that 
he  was  near  the  river  and  boats  might  be  pass 
ing  even  then,  he  shouted  twice  for  help  even 
while  he  fought  with  the  courage  of  despair. 
The  black  masks  with  holes,  through  which 
shone  the  eyes  of  his  assailants,  their  silence 


198  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

and  their  determination  began  to  work  upon 
him,  and  the  cold  perspiration  stood  out  on  his 
face.  But  with  marvellous  firmness  he  beat 
back  their  swords,  the  gleaming  points  of 
which  began  to  dazzle  his  eyes.  Once  more, 
though  sore  spent,  he  shouted,  and  now  there 
was  an  answer,  a  cry  from  the  direction  of  the 
river.  At  the  sound  of  it  the  stouter  of  the 
two  villains  turned  and  fled  into  the  thicket, 
evidently  having  no  mind  to  encounter  a  rein 
forcement  ;  but  the  other  engaged  Raby  the 
more  fiercely.  However,  it  was  now  an  equal 
struggle,  and  Simon  was  giving  thrust  for 
thrust  when  a  party  of  strangers  broke  through 
the  thicket  from  the  river  side  and  the  mask 
received  so  sharp  a  blow  on  the  back  of  his 
head  that  he  fell  prostrate.  Looking  across 
the  body  of  his  stricken  assailant,  Raby  recog 
nized  with  amazement  the  manly  figure  of  Lady 
Crabtree,  her  farthingale  looped  high  and  dis 
playing  her  huge  boots,  while  a  stout  staff  was 
clasped  in  the  great  fist  that  had  dealt  the 
blow.  Behind  her  were  a  group  of  her  attend 
ants  and  some  watermen,  all  gaping  at  the 
scene  in  wide-mouthed  curiosity. 

"What  gear  is  this,  Raby?"  she  demanded, 
and  stirred  the  unconscious  man  with  her 
foot. 


MY  LADY  CRAB  TREE    TO    THE   RESCUE     199 

"A  small  matter,  madam,"  responded  Simon; 
"two  villains  would  have  murdered  me." 

At  this,  the  fallen  man  began  to  move;  and 
Lady  Crabtree,  bending  down,  tore  the  mask 
from  the  handsome  dark  face. 

"Henge!"  she  exclaimed;  "a  pretty  busi 
ness  and  a  pretty  rogue !  Now  have  we  a 
chance  to  deliver  him  to  the  provost.  Here, 
fellows,  lend  your  hands  and  put  this  gentle 
man  murderer  in  the  barge." 

"Stay,  madam,"  said  Raby,  "this  is  my 
quarrel;  let  the  villain  go.  He  hath  forfeited 
all  right  to  meet  a  gentleman  upon  equal 
terms,  and  if  you  drag  him  into  court,  he  will 
but  blow  abroad  a  matter  which  concerns  a 
noble  lady.  Let  the  brute  run  to  his  kennel. 
He  comes  to  himself.  Is  this  your  way  to  fight, 
Sir  Barton?" 

Henge  staggered  to  his  feet  with  a  muttered 
curse,  and  groped  about  for  his  sword. 

Old  Madam  pointed  to  the  path  that  led 
from  the  palace. 

"Look  you,  Barton  Henge,"  she  said;  "here 
be  men  enough  to  lay  you  by  the  heels,  and  if 
you  stir  a  finger,  your  throat  will  be  slit, 
despite  this  gentleman  who  spares  you.  Go ! 
—  and  swiftly,  for  my  fingers  itch  to  rap  your 
pate  again,  you  villain!" 


20O  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"A  curse  upon  youl"  answered  Henge,  as 
he  prepared  to  obey,  having  no  alternative; 
"for  once  you  have  outwitted  me,  but  the 
devil  take  me  if  you  do  it  again ! " 

My  lady  laughed  a  shrill,  discordant  laugh. 

"He  hath  you,  friend,"  she  said;  "go  to  the 
wizard's  house  upon  the  Thames  and  worship 
him!" 

Henge  gave  her  a  strange  look  and  walked 
sullenly  away  without  a  reply. 

"'Twas  a  chance  thrust,"  said  Lady  Crab- 
tree,  "but  it  hit  —  some  deviltry  is  brewing  in 
that  hole,  and  I  be  not  mistaken." 


CHAPTER  XVII 


RABY  would  gladly  have  parted  with  old 
Madam  at  once  and  made  his  way  on  foot  to 
the  palace,  for  he  did  not  wish  to  be  seen  in 
his  disordered  dress,  and  there  was  blood,  too, 
on  his  face,  from  a  slight  cut  upon  his  fore 
head.  But  she  was  not  of  the  same  mind;  she 
would  not  let  him  go  back  alone  after  his 
encounter,  but  scolded  and  badgered  him  in 
her  own  fashion,  until  she  forced  him  into  her 
barge.  And  there  she  questioned  him  sharply, 
trying  to  draw  from  him  the  cause  of  the 
attack  which  Henge  had  made;  but  she  failed. 
Simon  kept  his  own  counsel;  he  was  as  deter 
mined  to  keep  Betty's  name  out  of  the  matter 
as  the  old  woman  was  resolved  to  trace  it  back 
to  her,  for  she  had  suspected  at  once  the  true 
state  of  affairs.  It  was  an  encounter  of  wits, 
for  old  Madam  was  as  keen  as  a  needle,  and 
Raby  was  no  fool.  Back  and  forth  the  subject 
went,  thrust  and  parry,  until  the  boat  stopped 
at  the  water-stairs,  and  there  Simon  lost  no 


202  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

time  in  making  his  escape.  Lady  Crabtree 
was  bound  for  London,  intending  to  return  at 
noon  to  Greenwich;  so  he  evaded  her,  at  least 
for  a  season.  Waving  his  adieu,  he  turned 
from  the  river  and  made  his  way  swiftly  toward 
a  side  entrance  of  the  palace.  The  morning 
was  now  well  advanced,  and  avoiding  a  group 
of  courtiers,  he  came  at  last  to  the  quadrangle 
court;  and  here,  to  his  surprise,  he  met  Mis 
tress  Carew.  She  had  just  come  out,  roused 
from  her  slumbers  by  her  anxieties,  and  a  glance 
at  Raby  told  her  the  story  of  his  morning  jour 
ney.  Her  quick  eye  detected  the  blood  that 
he  had  failed  to  wipe  away  entirely,  and  she 
stopped  him  with  an  imperious  gesture. 

"You  are  wounded!"  she  cried,  her  tone  as 
full  of  emotion  as  he  could  desire;  "what  have 
you  done? " 

"'T  is  but  a  scratch,"  he  answered  lightly; 
"a  little  water  will  soon  remove  the  traces 
of  it." 

But  she  was  not  to  be  put  off  so  easily. 

"You  have  been  fighting  with  Henge!  "  she 
exclaimed.  "  I  felt  it,  and  I  am  thankful  that 
it  is  no  worse." 

"You  do  not  inquire  into  his  fate,"  Raby 
rejoined,  smiling,  "yet  you  know  not  what 
it  is." 


BETTY  AND   HER    CHAMPION  2O3 

"Nor  care,"  she  answered,  her  eyes  spark 
ling  with  anger;  "sir,  he  was  unworthy  of 
your  steel." 

"That  I  know  now,  Mistress  Carew, "  Simon 
said  heartily;  "until  a  few  hours  ago  I  be 
lieved  him,  after  his  own  fashion,  a  gentleman, 
save  for  his  pursuit  of  you,  and  for  that  — 
except  the  manner  of  it  —  there  is  an  excuse." 

"  He  is  too  base  a  man  to  be  aught  but  a 
coward,"  said  Betty,  scornfully.  "  But  that 
cut  upon  your  forehead,"  she  added  in  a 
changed  tone,  "  I  grieve  to  see  it ;  you  must 
call  a  leech." 

Raby  looked  at  her  with  a  smile,  and  his 
expression  brought  the  color  to  her  cheeks. 

"Mistress  Carew,"  he  said  softly,  "you  told 
me  the  prophecy,  and  was  it  not  natural  I 
should  strive  for  a  scar?" 

"  But  I  told  you  also  that  I  liked  it  not,"  she 
answered  archly. 

"Ay,  but,  then,  what  if  the  prophecy  held?  " 
he  said,  still  smiling.  "I  thought  it  safe  to  be 
on  the  winning  side." 

"Alas,  sir!"  she  exclaimed,  "I  fear  that 
your  heart  has  already  too  many  scars ;  add  not 
one  only  to  your  face." 

She  had  stepped  back  a  little  and  was  laugh 
ing  and  blushing,  her  face  framed  with  the 


2O4  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

furs  that  muffled  it.  He  thought  her  charm 
ing,  and  her  wayward  mood  pleased  his  fancy. 

"Ah,  mistress!"  he  replied,  "  my  heart  has 
left  my  keeping,  therefore  I  have  only  my  face 
to  scar,  unless  you  give  me  back  the  other." 

Betty  looked  down  demurely. 

"Master  Raby,"  she  said,  "I  have  been  with 
two  queens,  and  both  have  warned  me  about 
the  hearts  of  men.  One  called  them  ships 
that  rode  uneasy  at  their  moorings,  and  the 
other,  quicksands.  After  such  goodly  advice 
and  wise  discourse,  verily,  sir,  I  have  my 
doubts  about  the  matter  also." 

"Then  there  is  greater  reason  for  you  to 
listen  to  a  truthful  argument,"  he  answered, 
smiling;  "these  poor  ladies  manifestly  have 
not  found  a  faithful  heart." 

"That  is  the  very  point  of  the  matter,"  Betty 
answered  quickly ;  "  are  any  faithful  ?  " 

"Ay,  surely,"  he  answered  more  earnestly; 
"and  mine  —  " 

"  Hush  !  "  exclaimed  Betty,  softly,  "  look  yon 
der,  sir,  and  judge  a  man's  heart  by  the  king's. " 

Raby  turned  quickly,  following  the  direction 
of  her  glance.  A  door  on  the  opposite  side 
had  opened,  and  Henry  was  coming  out,  fol 
lowed  by  two  of  his  attendants.  The  king  was 
cloaked,  but  his  figure  could  not  be  mistaken; 


BETTY  AND  HER   CHAMPION  205 

and  when  Simon  turned,  he  had  paused  upon 
the  threshold  and  was  looking  up  at  a  window 
above  him.  At  the  casement  was  the  figure  of 
a  woman,  and  she  waved  her  hand  to  the  king 
as  he  looked  up.  Henry  threw  her  a  kiss  and 
walked  on,  followed  by  his  equerries. 

"  'T  is  not  the  queen,"  remarked  Betty  softly, 
as  the  party  passed  around  and  out  of  the 
quadrangle. 

"Nay,"  replied  Raby,  gravely,  "it  was  Mis 
tress  Seymour." 

For  a  moment  neither  spoke;  both  were 
thinking  of  Queen  Anne  in  the  wizard's  house, 
both  heard  again  her  shriek  of  terror. 

"Alas!"  said  Raby;  "poor  lady!  I  fear 
there  is  some  truth  in  the  whispers  of  the 
court." 

Betty  looked  at  him  with  a  sparkle  of  mis 
chief  in  her  dark  eyes. 

"Sir,"  she  said,  "I  fear  that  you  have  no 
very  true  witness  for  a  man's  loyalty;  you  will 
need  a  better  proof." 

And  she  made  him  a  little  curtsy  as  she 
turned  to  go  back  into  the  palace. 

"  Stay !  "  cried  Raby,  eagerly ;  "  I  said  not 
that  a  king  should  be  the  standard.  Why, 
mistress,  a  royal  heart  cannot  be  measured 
with  that  of  a  plain,  honest  man." 


206  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

Betty  laughed  archly,  still  retreating. 

"Is  a  king,  then,  the  only  knave?"  she 
asked. 

"There  is  one  heart  that  waits  for  you  to 
test  it,  Mistress  Carew, "  Simon  answered,  fol 
lowing  her,  his  face  flushed  and  his  eyes  upon 
her  laughing  ones;  it  was  no  longer  jest  with 
him,  but  she  evaded  him. 

They  had  reached  the  door  which  opened 
into  the  private  way  to  the  apartments  of  the 
maids  of  honor,  and  here  he  was  forced  to  halt. 
She,  too,  paused  an  instant,  with  her  hand 
upon  the  latch,  and  looked  up  with  serious 
eyes,  her  whole  manner  changing  in  a  moment. 

"Master  Raby,"  she  said  gently,  "I  thank 
you  from  my  heart  for  the  part  you  have  taken 
this  morning  in  my  quarrel.  Believe  me,  sir, 
the  orphan  is  not  ungrateful  to  her  gallant 
champion." 

Before  he  could  reply,  she  was  gone,  and  he 
stood  looking  at  the  door  with  a  glowing  face. 
She  had  bewitched  him  and  he  believed  that 
she  was  not  indifferent  to  him,  but  she  could 
sustain  her  manner  of  gay  pleasantry,  and  was 
as  skilful  as  he  in  the  trifling  talk  which  made 
even  a  serious  matter  seem  of  little  weight. 

He  turned,  at  last,  to  find  his  way  to  his 
own  apartment,  determined  to  bring  Mistress 


BETTY  AND  HER   CHAMPION  2O/ 

Betty  to  consider  the  question  at  a  more  propi 
tious  moment;  but  he  was  destined  to  wait 
many  days  for  the  opportunity.  When  he 
reached  his  room,  he  found  a  messenger  with  a 
summons  for  him  to  come  without  delay  to  see 
his  dying  father.  There  was  no  time  for  leave- 
takings;  he  had  to  secure  the  king's  permis 
sion  to  depart,  and  when  that  was  obtained, 
was  forced  to  set  out  with  no  better  satisfac 
tion  than  a  note  of  farewell  to  Mistress  Betty. 
Not  knowing  how  carefully  she  kept  that  mis 
sive,  he  went  with  but  poor  comfort  upon  his 
sad  errand. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

A    ROYAL    LOVE    TOKEN 

THAT  strange  house  upon  the  Thames,  with 
its  receding  upper  stories  and  its  many  win 
dows,  had  strange  visitors.  Not  in  the  day 
time;  then  its  numerous  eyes  were  often 
blinded  with  iron  shutters,  and  only  the  owl's 
head  above  the  door,  which  opened  on  the 
street,  indicated  the  office  of  its  master,  as  did 
the  owl  upon  the  water-gate.  At  nightfall 
came  the  never-ending  stream  of  visitors,  and 
usually  by  the  river  entrance,  though  there 
were  other  doors ;  one,  indeed,  opening  through 
a  labyrinth  of  cellars  into  a  subterranean  pas 
sage  which  had  its  outlet  somewhere  by  the 
water's  edge,  and  whose  key  was  hidden  in  the 
wizard's  breast.  The  master  of  the  house  quite 
naturally  was  much  sought,  being,  by  repute, 
the  greatest  necromancer  in  England  and 
shrewd  enough  to  work  upon  the  fancies  of  the 
common  people,  dealing  out  philters  and  horo 
scopes  with  a  liberal  hand;  but  his  real  busi 
ness  was  of  a  deeper  and  darker  nature.  Men 


A   ROYAL   LOVE    TOKEN  2OQ 

of  all  conditions  came  by  night  to  that  silent 
house,  and  often  one  party  dreamed  not  of  the 
presence  of  the  other,  although  the  strange, 
small  man  held  intercourse  with  both.  In  the 
lower  portion  of  the  building,  with  no  commu 
nication  with  the  stairs  by  which  the  queen 
had  entered,  was  a  large  plain  room,  furnished 
with  a  long  table  and  many  chairs;  and  the 
ceiling  was  dark  blue,  set  with  gilded  stars,  so 
it  was  called  the  wizard's  Star  Chamber. 
Here  were  frequently  assembled  a  large  com 
pany,  and  here  the  dealings  were  free  from 
sorcery;  they  savored  of  a  deeper  and  more 
subtle  matter.  Here,  sometimes,  were  peers 
of  the  realm,  the  vacillating  Lord  Hussey, 
Darcy,  and,  less  frequently,  my  lord  of  Exeter, 
and,  once  or  twice,  the  master  of  horse,  Sir 
Nicholas  Carew.  On  one  occasion,  too,  ap 
peared  the  pale,  fanatical  face  of  a  poorer 
gentleman,  Robert  Aske,  who  was  to  lead  in 
the  Pilgrimage  of  Grace.  In  this  secret 
chamber  of  the  secret  house  festered  con 
spiracy,  undiscovered  even  by  the  falcon  eye 
of  Cromwell.  Here  were  represented  the 
remnant  of  the  party  of  the  White  Rose,  the 
infatuated  followers  of  the  Nun  of  Kent  and 
the  papists,  who  flocked  to  the  secret  meetings 
where  Pole's  book  against  the  king  was  known, 
14 


2IO  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

before  the  king  saw  it,  and  was  eagerly 
devoured;  where  the  pope's  bulls  were  quoted, 
while  the  name  of  Mary  Tudor  was  coupled 
first  with  the  dauphin  and  then  with  Charles  V. 
The  possibilities  of  resistance  to  the  crown, 
the  downfall  of  Cromwell  and  the  Arch 
bishop  of  Canterbury,  the  king's  increasing 
corpulence  and  the  sores  upon  his  legs,  — 
all  these  matters  were  fruitful  of  discussion, 
and  in  the  midst  of  the  malcontents,  the 
dwarfish  figure  of  the  master  of  the  house 
flitted  about  with  fiendish  activity.  It  was  in 
his  nature  to  love  the  brewing  of  so  evil  a 
caldron,  and  he  was  happiest  when  he  could 
count  the  greatest  number  of  the  peers  caught 
in  his  net.  Yet,  if  he  was  sincere  in  any 
thing,  he  was  in  his  devotion  to  the  hope  of  a 
revival  of  the  old  regime.  Through  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  kingdom  spread  the  tendrils 
of  conspiracy,  while  the  strong  hand  of  the  king 
was  on  the  helm  of  the  ship  of  state,  guiding  it 
through  troubled  waters  to  a  liberty  of  which 
he,  despot  that  he  was,  had  no  conception. 

Through  the  months  of  that  short  winter,  the 
procession  to  the  wizard's  Star  Chamber  con 
tinued  and  waxed  nightly  larger,  while  at 
Greenwich  the  king  and  queen  lived  estranged, 
and  the  gossips  of  the  court  were  busy  with  a 


A   ROYAL  LOVE    TOKEN  211 

matter  that  they  whispered  only  on  the  back 
stairs  or  in  the  chimney-corners,  while  the 
beauty  of  the  queen  waned  under  the  frown  of 
fortune.  A  cloud  hung  over  the  gayeties  of 
the  court,  while  she  was  nervous,  anxious,  ever 
suspicious  of  those  about  her,  and  time  passed 
heavily  with  the  young  maids  and  court  rufflers, 
and  there  was  much  secret  grumbling.  Master 
Raby  was  still  in  Sussex;  his  father  was  dead, 
but  the  new  Lord  Raby  could  not  leave  the 
estates  unsettled,  and  he  had  not  yet  returned. 
My  Lady  Crabtree,  however,  had  published 
such  an  account  of  the  affair  in  the  park  that 
Henge  was  forced  to  keep  in  retirement,  and 
for  a  while,  at  least,  Betty  was  free  from 
annoyance. 

April  came,  and  Latimer,  the  Bishop  of 
Worcester,  was  at  Greenwich  for  a  time,  and 
in  the  chapel  preached  a  mighty  sermon  to  the 
unhappy  queen.  The  king  was  absent,  and  the 
suite  of  Anne  Boleyn  filled  the  space  around 
the  pulpit.  The  great  bishop  spoke  in  a  clear 
voice,  bearing  fearless  witness  to  the  queen  of 
the  errors  and  the  sins  of  a  worldly  life  and 
the  penitence  by  which  alone  she  might  hope 
to  enter  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  where  her 
earthly  majesty  would  be  a  shackle  to  her 
immortal  soul.  The  preacher  lifted  his  voice 


212  THE   HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

courageously  to  call  an  erring  woman  to  re 
pentance.  Latimer  saw  the  truth  too  plainly, 
and  was  too  honest  to  bear  false  witness,  —  a 
great  man  whom  the  great  cardinal  plucked 
from  the  burning,  seeing  those  qualities  of 
soul  which  a  strong  mind  recognizes  even  in  a 
foe,  and  Wolsey  saved  him  to  be  the  martyr  of 
bloody  Mary. 

Queen  Anne  left  the  chapel  weeping,  and 
going  to  her  apartments,  bade  Mary  Wyatt 
bring  her  Tyndale's  translation  of  the  Bible,  the 
book  that  her  intercession  with  the  king  had 
saved  from  the  fagots.  About  her  stood  her 
maids  of  honor,  and  while  she  sat  thus  with 
the  open  Testament  before  her,  tears  in  her 
eyes  and  her  whole  manner  full  of  agitation, 
the  door  opened  to  admit  a  young  and  beautiful 
woman.  In  contrast  to  the  pale  face  of  the 
queen,  the  luxuriant  beauty  of  the  new-comer 
seemed  dazzling;  her  features  were  perfectly 
regular,  while  her  eyes  have  been  called 
"starry"  in  their  luster.  At  the  sight  of  her, 
Anne's  face  changed  instantly;  she  rose,  and 
advancing  to  the  center  of  the  room,  looked  at 
her  haughtily.  The  young  woman  was  splen 
didly  dressed,  and  wore  a  girdle  of  pearls  at  her 
waist,  and  on  her  neck  a  great  jewel,  which 
attracted  the  eye  of  the  queen. 


A   ROYAL   LOVE    TOKEN  21$ 

"What  have  you  there,  Mistress  Seymour?" 
she  exclaimed  sharply,  indicating  the  gem. 

Jane  Seymour  drew  back  with  a  flush  of 
mingled  embarrassment  and  indignation. 

"'Tis  but  a  gift,  madam,"  she  said,  falter 
ing  under  Anne's  searching  glance;  "'tis 
naught  of  importance.  I  —  " 

The  blush,  the  stammering  tone  were  alike 
fatal  to  an  attempt  at  evasion ;  the  queen 
snatched  at  the  jewel  and  tore  it  from  her 
rival's  throat  with  such  vehemence  that  she  cut 
her  hand  upon  the  clasp  and  the  blood  dropped 
on  her  dress.  She  took  the  ornament,  and 
looking  on  the  reverse  side,  found  a  curiously 
contrived  spring,  which  opened  to  reveal  a 
beautifully  painted  portrait  of  the  king.  For 
one  moment  she  stood  transfixed,  such  an 
expression  on  her  haggard  face  that  her  attend 
ants  shrank  back  and  the  fair  Seymour  was 
covered  with  confusion.  Then  the  furious 
nature  of  Anne  Boleyn  roused  her  from  her 
womanly  dismay;  she  turned  upon  the  maid  of 
honor  like  a  lioness  at  bay,  her  wrath  bringing 
a  terrible  beauty  to  her  face  and  her  eyes 
blazing  with  fury.  She  hurled  the  bauble  at 
Jane  Seymour  with  such  force  that  it  fell 
shattered  at  her  feet. 

"  Go ! "  cried   the    queen,    pointing    to    the 


214  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

door,  "get  from  my  sight,  you  accursed  trai 
tress,  and  take  the  image  of  your  paramour 
away  with  you  ! " 

"  Madam,  I  pray  you  —  "  began  Jane. 

"  Begone ! "  said  Anne,  her  impassioned 
voice  ringing  through  the  room;  "doubtless 
the  king  awaits  thee.  Lie  not  to  me!  let  me 
not  see  thy  face  again ! " 

In  her  resistless  fury  the  queen  towered  like 
an  avenging  spirit,  and  Jane  Seymour  could 
only  gather  up  the  fragments  of  her  sovereign's 
love  token  and  retreat  in  deep  confusion. 
Anne  Boleyn  watched  her  until  the  door  closed 
behind  her,  her  own  pose  full  of  queenly  dig 
nity  and  injured  womanhood;  but  when  the 
rival  beauty  had  withdrawn,  a  great  change 
swept  over  Anne's  features;  she  turned,  and 
seeing  her  favorite  friend  near  her  with  a  face 
full  of  sympathy  and  indignation,  she  fell 
weeping  on  her  neck. 

"  Oh,  Mary,  I  have  sinned ! "  she  cried  in  a 
voice  of  anguish;  "oh,  my  God!  is  my  punish 
ment  to  be  administered  in  like  measure  with 


my  sm 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE    JOUSTS    AT    GREENWICH 

IT  was  the  first  of  May;  the  trees  in  Green 
wich  Park  were  budding  with  the  tender  tints 
of  spring,  and  the  short  turf  was  studded  with 
the  little  daisies,  pink  and  white,  and  the 
hawthorns  were  in  bloom,  while  from  the 
hedgerows  came  the  music  of  the  birds.  In 
the  lists  at  Greenwich  the  silver  trumpets 
blew.  The  heralds  proclaimed  the  names  of 
the  challengers  and  challenged  in  the  tourna 
ment.  The  royal  gallery  was  hung  with  cloth 
of  gold,  and  the  king  and  queen  sat  there 
together,  in  apparent  concord ;  yet  there  were 
dark  whispers  in  tli2  palace,  there  had  been 
a  secret  session  of  the  privy  council  at  White 
hall  a  few  days  before,  and  a  gentleman  of 
the  king's  household  had  been  committed  to 
the  Tower.  Bat  outwardly  all  was  gay  for 
the  great  festival  of  May  Day.  Banners  floated 
over  the  lists,  pennants  of  dyes  as  varied  as 
the  rainbow,  while  from  the  galleries  hung  rich 


2l6  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

tapestries  and  wreaths  of  flowers.  Garlands 
decorated  the  canopy  above  the  head  of  Anne 
Boleyn,  garlands  lay  on  the  gallery  balustrade 
before  her,  and  she  was  robed  in  all  the  splen 
dor  of  a  queen.  Her  surcoat  was  of  scarlet 
and  gold  brocade,  and  her  mantle  of  cloth  of 
gold  was  lined  with  ermine,  while  on  her  coif 
was  a  circlet  of  rubies,  the  same  which  she  had 
worn  on  that  Whitsunday  when  she  received 
the  crown.  Unusually  pale,  but  beautiful,  the 
queen  leaned  forward  in  her  chair  to  watch  the 
tilting,  while  beside  her  sat  the  king,  seeming 
to  share  her  interest  in  the  games.  He  also 
was  arrayed  in  a  regal  fashion,  his  dress  of 
purple  velvet  slashed  with  white  satin  and  his 
breast  covered  with  jewels,  which  sparkled 
also  in  his  low-crowned  velvet  hat,  in  which 
were  set  white  ostrich  plumes.  The  strong 
face  of  the  king  was  slightly  clouded,  though 
he  smiled,  and  his  tawny  eyes  flashed  with  the 
fiery  spirit  of  his  race.  About  the  queen  stood 
her  maids  of  honor,  Mistress  Wyatt,  Mistress 
Gaynsford,  Betty  Carew,  and  many  more;  and 
in  the  rear  was  the  tall,  square-shouldered 
Lady  Crabtree,  who  had  that  day  asked  Anne's 
leave  to  take  Betty  away  to  Wildrick,  pleading 
some  excuse  in  response  to  the  queen' s  inquiries. 
Permission  had  been  given,  and  when  the  fes- 


THE  JOUSTS  AT  GREENWICH  21? 

tivities    were    ended,    Mistress    Carew   would 
depart  for  a  while  from  court. 

With  the  braying  of  trumpets  and  the  sound 
of  music,  challenger  and  challenged  rode  into 
the  lists, —  the  queen's  brother,  Lord  Roch- 
ford,  and  Sir  Henry  Norris,  who  had  been  one 
of  the  witnesses  of  Henry's  secret  marriage 
with  the  Marchioness  of  Pembroke  in  the  attic 
turret  of  Whitehall.  Both  the  contestants 
were  fine  riders,  and  expert  with  sword  and 
lance;  the  first  encounter  called  forth  a  burst 
of  applause.  Men  shouted,  women  waved  their 
handkerchiefs,  and  the  queen  let  hers  fall  from 
her  hand  into  the  lists.  Before  the  eager  host 
of  sycophants  could  reach  it,  Norris  had  it, 
and  pressing  it  to  his  face,  presented  it  on  the 
point  of  his  lance  to  Anne.  There  was  a 
moment  of  silence;  the  king  rose  with  a  dark 
frown  and,  followed  by  a  few  of  his  confiden 
tial  attendants,  left  the  gallery  without  a  word 
or  a  glance  at  his  consort.  At  the  barrier  of 
the  lists,  the  royal  officers  arrested  Lord  Roch- 
ford  and  Sir  Henry  Norris  upon  the  charge  of 
high  treason.  In  an  instant  the  bright  scene 
was  changed;  the  trumpets  ceased  to  sound, 
men  flocked  together,  speaking  low,  the  jousts 
were  stayed,  the  women  stared  affrighted  at  the 
queen. 


2l8     THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  WIZARD 

"The  king!  the  king!"  was  whispered; 
"what  doth  ail  the  king?  Something  has  hap 
pened,  some  mischief  is  ripe!  The  Northern 
Counties  must  have  risen !  My  lord  privy  seal 
is  murdered  !  These  gentlemen  have  poisoned 
the  Princess  Elizabeth!" 

Almost  a  panic  reigned  below,  while  in  the 
gallery  the  queen  rose  with  a  white  face  and 
withdrew,  followed  by  her  women.  In  half  an 
hour  the  lists  were  vacant,  the  garlands  hung 
wilting  in  the  sunshine,  the  idle  crowd  trailing 
off  full  cry  after  some  new  scandal.  The  news 
had  spread  that  the  king  was  gone  to  Whitehall 
and  with  him  the  prisoner  Norris.  Tales  that 
had  been  whispered  began  now  to  be  told  aloud; 
fingers  were  pointed  at  the  windows  of  the 
queen's  rooms;  idle  gossips  watched  upon  the 
water-stairs  for  possible  arrivals  from  London, 
and  the  superstitious  remembered  signs  and 
sounds.  A  step  had  been  heard  upon  the 
palace  stair  at  midnight,  yet  no  one  ascended, 
though  the  heavy  tread  came  through  the 
gallery  before  the  door  of  Anne  Boleyn ;  it 
had  so  walked  at  that  of  Catherine,  and  at  the 
threshold  of  the  hapless  Anne  of  Warwick, 
queen  of  Richard  III.  One  old  wife  had  seen 
Death  riding  on  a  tall  white  horse  through  the 
park  in  the  full  light  of  noonday.  Another, 


THE  JOUSTS  AT  GREENWICH  2ig 

who  had  heard  the  Bishop  of  Worcester's  great 
sermon  at  Paul's  Cross,  had  been  in  terror 
ever  since,  lest  England  should  fall  away  to  the 
Bishop  of  Rome,  so  valiantly  had  his  lordship 
preached  against  friars  and  abbots,  and  the  like. 

Meanwhile  the  queen  was  in  her  own  apart 
ments.  Although  deeply  disturbed  by  the 
king's  anger  and  abrupt  departure,  she  bore 
herself  with  composure,  talking  quietly  with 
her  women,  speaking  not  at  all  of  the  arrest  of 
her  brother.  Her  maids  flocked  about  her 
startled,  dismayed,  and  each  suspicious  of  the 
other's  fidelity,  except  the  few  who  were  close 
to  the  person  of  the  queen.  Never  was  a  May 
Day  so  full  of  trouble  since  the  111  May  Day 
when  the  poor  apprentices  of  London  rose  in 
Queen  Catherine's  time  to  be  butchered  by 
the  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

Night  came  at  last,  but  sleep  visited  but 
few  in  the  palace,  and  the  morning  found 
many  haggard  faces  about  the  queen.  Yet  the 
suspense  continued;  the  daily  life  at  Green 
wich  moved  on  as  usual,  men  and  women  tried 
to  smile  and  made  ghastly  jests.  The  king 
came  not  again,  and  noonday  brought  no  tid 
ings.  Dinner  was  spread  in  the  royal  apart 
ments,  and  Anne  sat  down,  attended  by  her 
maids  of  honor  and  the  servants  of  her  own 


22O  THE   HOUSE    OF   THE    WIZARD 

household.  The  customary  greeting  from  the 
king,  "Much  good  may  it  do  you,"  came  not, 
and  the  queen's  face  paled  as  she  glanced  at 
the  sorrowful  women  about  her.  More  than  one 
had  tearful  eyes,  and  all  failed  to  respond  to 
her  attempted  pleasantry. 

"  Mary,"  she  said,  turning  to  Mistress  Wyatt, 
"what  ails  thee?  One  would  think  that  a 
death's  head  grinned  upon  the  board.  'T  is  a 
dull  hour  and  my  maids  are  red-eyed;  truly, 
it  seems  that  they  might  make  some  jest  to 
entertain  the  queen." 

"Oh,  madam!"  exclaimed  Mary  Wyatt, 
bursting  into  tears,  "I  cannot  —  I  am  ill." 

"111?"  repeated  the  queen,  sadly;  "nay, 
my  girl,  not  ill,  but  fearful.  I  knew  not  that 
thy  blood  was  so  weak.  When  Anne  Boleyn 
sees  danger  approaching,  her  heart  beats  with 
a  bolder  pulse;  she  feels  that  she  is  sprung  of 
a  warlike  race  which  is  not  so  ill  a  match  for 
the  Tudors.  Come,  come,  Mary,  dry  thy 
tears;  the  May  sun  is  shining;  it  is  almost  as 
fair  a  day  as  that  first  of  June  on  which  I  made 
my  progress  through  London." 

"  I  pray  that  it  may  shine  on  you  with  greater 
blessing,  madam,"  replied  Mistress  Wyatt, 
drying  her  eyes. 

The  queen  looked  down  the  long  table;  at 


THE  JOUSTS  AT  GREENWICH  221 

the  end  one  of  her  old  servants  stood  weeping; 
on  either  hand  were  pale  faces,  even  Betty 
Carew  had  lost  her  splendid  coloring. 

"Mistress  Carew,"  said  Anne,  "why  is  your 
face  so  long?  I  do  not  think  you  love  me, 
yet  your  cheek  is  wan.  Is  my  case,  then,  like 
the  queen's  at  Kimbolton?" 

There  was  a  rustle,  a  stir  of  amazement,  but 
the  words  were  spoken. 

"Madam,"  said  Betty,  in  a  low  voice,  "be 
tween  the  ill  and  suffering  lady  who  died 
yonder  and  your  grace's  youth  and  health  there 
can  be  no  comparison." 

"My  Lady  Crabtree  takes  you  to  Deptford," 
said  Anne,  quietly;  "'tis  well.  I  would  not 
bring  disaster  upon  one  so  young,  and  who  has 
no  cause  to  love  me." 

"I  pray  your  grace  to  let  me  remain,"  Betty 
cried,  her  generous  spirit  stirred ;  "  I  would 
not  leave  you  in  the  hour  of  trouble." 

"Trouble!"  the  queen  laughed  hysterically, 
"who  speaks  of  it?  'Tis  gay,  a  festival  at 
Greenwich.  Hark!"  she  cried  suddenly, 
"what  is  that?" 

The  stir  of  an  arrival  in  the  antechamber, 
the  great  doors  thrown  open,  the  voice  of  the 
usher  announcing  his  grace  of  Norfolk  and  the 
lords  of  the  Privy  Council. 


222  THE  HOUSE    OF  THE    WIZARD 

Anne  rose  from  her  seat  with  a  low  cry. 

"  'T  is  a  message  from  the  king's  grace,"  she 
cried  joyfully;  "  my  lord  hath  sent  to  comfort 
me  for  the  arrest  of  my  sweet  brother." 

She  stood  with  a  white  face,  her  splendid 
dress  disordered,  her  beautiful  hair  unbound. 
Her  ladies  clustered  about  her,  but  leaving  a 
space  in  which  she  stood  alone;  behind  were 
her  frightened  servants.  Toward  this  group 
came  with  slow  steps,  as  if  their  errand  was  a 
heavy  one,  her  uncle,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
Cromwell,  the  Chancellor  Audley,  and  others 
of  the  Council.  The  queen  looked  at  them 
with  dilated  eyes,  her  breast  heaving,  and  her 
expression  changing  from  expectation  to  terror 
as  her  glance  fell  on  Sir  William  Kingston, 
the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower. 

"  My  God  !  "  she  cried  in  a  low  voice,  "  there 
is  death  in  their  looks !  " 

Then  she  added  aloud,  "  My  lords,  why  come 
ye  here? " 

"  Madam,"  replied  Cromwell,  sadly,  "  we  come 
at  the  king's  command  to  conduct  you  to  the 
Tower,  there  to  abide  his  highness's  pleasure." 

Mary  Wyatt  with  a  scream  clutched  at  the 
queen's  robe,  but  in  this  supreme  moment 
Anne  regained  her  self-command.  She  put 
her  devoted  maid  aside  and  stood  alone. 


THE  JOUSTS  AT  GREENWICH 

"My  lords,  if  it  be  the  king's  pleasure,"  she 
said,  "I  am  willing  to  obey." 

The  Duke  of  Norfolk  ordered  her  attendants 
from  the  room  that  she  might  be  examined 
privately  by  the  Council. 

"Uncle,"  said  the  queen,  sadly,  "from  thy 
hands  I  might  look  for  more  tender  usage." 

Before  she  left  the  room,  Betty  Carew 
approached  the  unhappy  woman;  the  young 
girl's  generous  heart  beat  high  and  her  dark 
eyes  sparkled  with  anger.  She  saw  here  only 
a  repetition  of  the  blow  that  had  smitten 
Catherine  of  Arragon. 

"Madam,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  "if  it  be 
your  wish,  I  will  go  with  you  to  the  Tower;  I 
would  not  leave  you  now!  " 

The  queen  was  deeply  touched ;  she  took  a 
ring  from  her  finger  and  placed  it  in  Betty's 
hand. 

"Nay,  Mistress  Carew,"  she  said  gently,  "I 
also  can  be  generous ;  thou  art  young,  go  in 
peace.  Mary  Wyatt  and  my  other  maids  may 
presently  come  to  me;  now  I  am  the  king's 
prisoner.  Farewell,  fair  girl,  I  pray  thy 
beauty  may  not  bring  thee  to  so  evil  a  case." 


CHAPTER   XX 

IN    THE    APPLE    ORCHARD 

MY  Lady  Crabtree  hurried  Mistress  Betty 
from  Greenwich.  At  sunset  of  that  fateful 
day,  the  two  went  by  water  to  Deptford.  The 
barge  glided  gently  along  the  placid  river; 
the  soft  spring  air  was  full  of  fragrance  and  the 
banks  of  the  Thames  on  either  hand  were  clad 
in  a  mantle  of  varied  green,  while  above  the 
blue  sky  was  flecked  with  rosy  clouds.  Betty 
and  old  Madam  sat  in  the  center  of  the  boat, 
and  the  young  girl  was  silent  and  manifestly 
unhappy.  After  casting  one  or  two  of  her 
eagle  glances  at  the  beautiful,  downcast  face, 
Lady  Crabtree  accosted  her  with  her  accus 
tomed  frankness. 

"  What  ails  you,  wench  ?  "  she  asked  sharply ; 
"you  had  no  love  for  this  queen  when  you  were 
sent  to  her,  and  now  you  pull  as  long  a  face  as 
ever  you  did  for  the  Lady  Catherine." 

"  I  had  only  condemnation  for  her  when  I 
went  first  to  Greenwich,"  Betty  answered, 
"nor  do  I  love  her  as  does  poor  Mary  Wyatt, 
and  a  few  of  the  others  also;  but  it  seems  a 


IN  THE  APPLE   ORCHARD  22$ 

cowardly  thing  to  leave  her  now  —  it  hurts  me 
to  seem  a  time-server." 

"Tush!"  retorted  the  old  woman,  calmly, 
"the  queen  cares  naught  for  you.  Nor  would 
they  let  you  go  if  you  would.  They  took  her 
to  the  Tower  without  even  giving  her  time  to 
change  her  farthingale,  —  like  men  it  is  to  do 
it  so, — and  I  hear  that  the  king's  grace  will 
have  her  aunt,  Lady  Boleyn,  and  Mrs.  Cousins, 
whom  she  hates,  attend  her.  Doubtless  they 
will  strive  to  wring  some  confession  from  her, 
poor  thing ! " 

"  She  is  charged  with  high  treason,  so  Mary 
Wyatt  told  me,  weeping,"  Betty  said;  "but  the 
whole  matter  has  been  conducted  so  secretly 
that  the  unhappy  lady  knows  not  the  charges. " 

Lady  Crabtree's  stern  face  stiffened. 

"That  may  and  may  not  be,"  she  retorted 
dryly;  "Anne  Boleyn  has  been  more  foolish 
than  ever  she  was  wise.  The  greatest  fool  was 
she  to  think  that  the  man  whom  she  had  made 
unfaithful  to  his  wife  would  be  faithful  to  her. 
Poor  shallow  pate!  she  but  taught  him  the 
door  by  which  he  should  slip  out.  Well,  well, 
there  will  be  a  great  trial,  and  what  will  my  lord 
of  Wiltshire  do?" 

"The  queen's  father?"  Betty  said;  "alas, 
poor  gentleman ! " 


226  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"  Alas,  poor  ass  ! "  retorted  Lady  Crabtree  ; 
"yet  was  he  clever  enough  to  wring  a  promise 
from  the  king's  grace  to  marry  Mistress  Anne 
before  Queen  Catherine  was  put  away.  They 
tell  a  tale  of  his  visit  to  the  Bishop  of  Ronie, " 
she  added,  laughing.  "The  king  sent  him  upon 
this  business  of  the  divorce,  and  he,  getting 
there,  refused  to  kiss  the  pope's  toe.  'T  is 
added  that  his  dog  bit  it,  in  which  case  it  is 
no  great  wonder  that  his  highness's  cause 
suffered  at  Rome." 

"  My  Lady  Rochford  does  not  love  the 
queen,"  Betty  remarked  thoughtfully,  "nor 
does  the  queen  love  her." 

"There  is  gossip  about  her  as  a  witness 
against  Anne,"  old  Madam  replied,  "but  there 
is  scandal  enough  now  to  raise  the  stones  of 
the  palace.  'Twas  the  rumor  of  this  matter 
that  reached  your  uncle  through  his  kinsman, 
the  master  of  horse.  Whereat  I  get  a  letter, 
writ  in  haste,  to  tell  me  to  propound  some 
excuse  to  get  you  to  Deptford.  William 
Carew  must  take  me  for  a  liar;  that  I  never 
was,  because  I  could  not  cover  one  without 
a  thousand,  and  it  is  a  weariness  to  the 
flesh." 

There  was  a  pause  between  them ;  they  were 
approaching  Deptford,  and  Betty's  mind  was 


IN  THE   APPLE   ORCHARD  22/ 

full  of  those  last  melancholy  hours  with  the 
unhappy  queen. 

"Hast  seen  thy  lover,  Henge,  of  late?" 
Lady  Crabtree  asked,  as  they  reached  the 
landing. 

Betty  raised  her  head  haughtily.  "  I  pray  you 
call  him  by  some  other  name,"  she  said  coldly; 
"I  am  happy  that  I  have  not  seen  him." 

"And  did  Master  Raby  —  I  beg  his  pardon 
—  Lord  Raby  not  tell  thee  of  the  game  in 
Greenwich  Park?" 

A  deep  blush  came  into  Betty's  face. 

"  I  saw  Lord  Raby  but  once  before  he  went 
away,"  she  answered,  "and  he  told  me  but 
little,  albeit  I  have  heard  much  since." 

Taking  a  grim  pleasure  in  the  recital,  Lady 
Crabtree  told  the  story  of  the  ambush  and  the 
rescue,  and  her  sharp  eyes  did  not  lose  a  blush 
or  quiver  of  the  face  beside  her. 

"  'T  is  a  mercy  that  the  matter  is  so  ended," 
Betty  said  in  a  low  voice;  "now  I  think  he 
will  scarcely  dare  to  show  his  face  again." 

Old  Madam  laughed  harshly.  "  Little  you 
know  of  Barton  Henge,"  she  said;  "he  will 
remember  the  injury  and  the  disgrace  until  he 
has  avenged  it.  Lay  no  such  unction  to  your 
soul;  he  is  a  devil  and  he  will  do  a  devil's 
work." 


228  THE   HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

With  these  threatening  words  still  ringing 
in  her  ears,  Betty  went  with  a  heavy  heart  to 
take  up  her  life  again  with  this  strange  woman. 

For  a  while,  however,  all  hearts  were  ab 
sorbed  in  the  terrible  tidings  that  came  from 
London.  The  indictment  and  the  trial  of  a 
Queen  of  England,  the  pitiful  spectacle  of  a 
woman  who  had  sacrificed  all  to  obtain  a  crown 
now  forced  to  such  a  shameful  ignominy.  The 
minds  of  honest  Englishmen  were  stunned; 
the  sadness  of  the  fate  of  Catherine  was  as 
nothing  compared  with  this. 

Moved  by  pity  for  the  wretched  queen,  awed 
by  the  recognition  of  the  fearful  workings  of 
retribution,  Betty  Carew  was  filled  with  amaze 
ment,  sympathy,  unbelief.  Finding  small 
matter  in  common  with  old  Madam,  the  young 
girl  was  much  alone.  Sitting  in  her  own 
room,  which  overlooked  the  river,  or  walking 
through  the  garden  and  orchards  of  the  manor 
house,  her  mind  found  plenty  of  food  for  reflec 
tion.  In  a  few  short  months  she  had  attended 
two  queens,  each  doomed  to  misery,  —  one  a 
sternly  virtuous  woman,  dying  as  a  Christian 
should;  the  other  —  she  could  not  think  of 
Anne's  great  beauty,  the  attraction  of  her 
manner,  without  commiseration.  She  had  seen 
her  in  a  brief  hour  of  triumph  at  Catherine's 


IN  THE  APPLE   ORCHARD  22Q 

death  ;  she  knew  that  it  was  commonly  reported 
that  her  malice  had  pulled  down  the  great 
cardinal,  but  she  could  only  think  of  her  in 
her  distress;  she  heard  still  her  shrieks  in 
the  wizard's  house,  her  anguish  at  the  sight  of 
the  king's  gift  to  Jane  Seymour. 
<  Betty  had  been  ten  days  at  Deptford,  and 
one  morning  walked  alone  in  the  apple  orchard. 
Beneath  her  feet  the  soft  green  turf  was  broken 
here  and  there  by  the  gnarled  root  of  an  apple 
tree;  overhead  the  low  boughs  made  a  net 
work,  white  and  pink  with  bloom,  and  through 
the  beauty  of  the  fragrant  blossoms  she  saw 
the  soft  blue  sky,  and  before  her,  through  the 
trees,  was  the  river.  The  birds  sang  with 
the  joy  of  the  spring.  She  went  on  down  to 
the  river  bank,  and  watched  the  wherries  going 
to  London;  then,  as  she  came  slowly  back,  she 
looked  up  and  saw,  coming  through  the  avenue 
of  trees,  a  stalwart  figure,  and  a  face  she  knew. 
She  had  not  seen  Simon  Raby  since  that 
morning  in  the  quadrangle  court,  and  she 
blushed  a  little  as  she  saw  the  glad  look  on  his 
face.  But  she  had  profited  by  her  lessons  in 
the  world,  and  she  met  him  with  an  air  of 
demure  dignity. 

"You   are   welcome,    my  Lord   Raby,"   she 
said  gravely;  "you  have  been  long  in  Sussex, 


230  THE   HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

and  I  was  sorry  that  you  went  on  so  sad  an 
errand.  Sir,  I  am  an  orphan  too,  and  do  com 
miserate  your  case." 

Despite  his  black  garments,  Simon  Raby  was 
wearing  a  cheerful  countenance,  having  been 
long  separated  from  his  father,  a  close-fisted 
man,  whose  only  love  was  gold,  which  had 
made  his  son  run  to  the  opposite  extreme. 
Having  little  in  common,  Raby  had  not  felt 
his  loss  too  deeply;  but  at  this  speech  from 
Mistress  Betty,  he  pulled  down  his  face  and 
tried  to  make  a  proper  answer,  although  all  the 
while  he  was  thinking  how  radiant  was  her 
dark  beauty  in  the  white  gown  she  wore,  and 
what  a  picture  she  made  with  the  apple-blooms 
overhead  and  in  her  hands.  And  she  knew 
his  thoughts  well  enough,  but  chose  to  turn 
the  talk  away. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  back  in  London  ?  " 
she  asked,  arranging  her  flowers;  "we  have 
been  ten  days  here,  but  at  this  dreadful  time  it 
seems  much  longer." 

"  Alas,  poor  queen  of  a  day ! "  Raby  said 
compassionately;  "'tis  a  great  misfortune  for 
this  realm,  nor  do  we  see  the  end  of  it.  I 
came  back  but  yesterday,  and  heard  the  tidings 
at  an  inn.  They  stunned  me;  I  could  not 
believe  it  until  I  made  inquiries  of  the  matter. 


IN   THE   APPLE   ORCHARD  231 

'T  is  said  that  my  lord  privy  seal  sent  for  Sir 
Francis  Bryan,  but  he  is  quit  of  it.  And 
Archbishop  Cranmer  wept;  he  hath  a  gentle 
heart.  I  thought  of  the  wizard's  house,  Mis 
tress  Carew,  and  of  the  shrieks  of  the  queen. 
'T  is  a  marvellous  thing,  and  makes  an  honest 
man  shun  the  bandy-legged  creature.  I  passed 
that  house  as  I  came  on  the  river;  the  shutters 
were  open  and  the  windows  —  verily,  they 
shone  like  evil  eyes  in  the  sunlight." 

Betty  shuddered.  "'T was  a  fearful  place," 
she  said,  and  added  :  "  I  owe  you  a  debt,  Lord 
Raby.  My  Lady  Crabtree  told  me  more  of 
that  encounter  with  Henge  than  ever  you  did." 

Raby's  face  flushed  as  he  laughed. 

"It  was  a  petticoat  rescue,"  he  said,  "of 
which  T  have  little  cause  to  be  vainglorious. 
Hath  the  villain  troubled  you  again?" 

"Nay,"  Betty  answered,  "though  my  lady 
tells  me  that  he  will  avenge  his  grief.  I  pray 
you,  beware  of  this  dangerous  foe." 

"  I  would  right  cheerfully  encounter  more 
such  in  your  cause,  Mistress  Carew,"  he  an 
swered  softly,  and  then  added  after  a  brief 
pause,  "I  was  not  only  in  Sussex;  I  have  been 
down  to  Mohun's  Ottery. " 

"  To  my  uncle  ?  "  asked  Betty,  in  surprise. 
"  How  fared  they  all  ?  " 


232  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

"Well,  and  sent  loving  greetings  to  you," 
he  replied.  "Can  you  not  divine  my  errand, 
Mistress  Carew,  down  there  in  Devon  ?  " 

Betty  looked  up  archly,  but  meeting  the 
ardent  glance  of  his  brown  eyes,  looked  down 
again  and  colored  like  a  rose. 

"Nay,  sir,"  she  said,  "I  never  yet  could 
read  a  riddle." 

A  soft  breeze  shaking  the  bough  overhead, 
some  apple  blossoms  dropped  upon  her  like  a 
fragrant  snowfall. 

"I  saw  your  uncle,  Mistress  Carew,"  Simon 
said  softly,  "and  I  pleaded  my  cause  with  him 
and  won  it;  'tis  for  you  to  condemn  me  now, 
or  bless  me." 

They  stood  near  the  high  wall  of  the  orchard  ; 
it  was  very  still,  and  Mistress  Betty  kept  her 
eyes  upon  the  ground. 

He  put  out  his  hand  and  took  hers  gently; 
his  manner  was  tender  as  to  a  child ;  her  stately 
beauty  did  not  make  her  a  great  lady  in  his 
eyes,  he  saw  beyond  it  the  tender  heart. 

"Mistress  Carew,  Betty,"  he  said  softly,  "I 
have  no  scar  upon  my  brow." 

At  this,  a  smile  stole  over  Betty's  rosy  face 
and  she  gave  him  an  arch  glance. 

"  You  might  have  had  one,  sir,  but  for  my 
Lady  Crabtree,"  she  said  roguishly. 


IN  THE  APPLE   ORCHARD  233 

He  kissed  her  hands.  "I  love  you,"  he 
whispered  tenderly;  "will  you  make  me  happy, 
or  must  I  go  hence  with  a  heavy  heart?  " 

"My  Lord  Raby,"  Betty  said  quietly,  "I 
see  my  uncle  and  my  Lady  Crabtree  coming 
through  the  orchard;  did  my  uncle  come  with 
you  ? " 

"I  must  have  my  answer,"  he  exclaimed, 
between  hope  and  doubt,  still  detaining  her 
hand  though  he  heard  the  others  coming. 

"Bethink  you,"  she  said  proudly,  "I  should 
be  but  a  portionless  bride." 

"To  me  the  noblest  and  the  richest  in  the 
kingdom,"  he  exclaimed. 

She  looked  at  him  with  radiant  eyes. 

"Sir,"  she  said  roguishly,  "my  uncle  calleth 
thee!" 


CHAPTER   XXI 

A    MESSENGER    FROM    LONDON 

IN  the  strange  house  upon  the  Thames,  the 
wizard  entertained  a  guest  in  a  small,  dark 
room  upon  the  lower  floor.  There  was  a  low 
chimney  in  the  corner,  and  on  the  hearth  some 
logs  were  burning;  over  it  was  swung  a  kettle, 
the  steam  issuing  from  its  iron  lips  proclaim 
ing,  by  its  unsavory  odor,  some  tea  of  herbs. 
On  the  table  in  the  center  of  the  room  were 
two  sealed  packets,  one  large,  the  other  small, 
and  near  this  table  sat  the  wizard  and  his 
friend,  Sir  Barton  Henge.  The  outer  shutters 
being  closed,  there  was  no  light  in  the  place 
except  the  red  glare  of  the  fire  which  flickered 
on  the  faces  of  these  two,  and  cast  their 
shadows  magnified  upon  the  wall  behind.  A 
strange  couple,  strangely  fitted  for  mischief. 

"Anne  Boleyn  is  sentenced,"  Henge  said 
moodily;  "my  lord  of  Northumberland  was 
carried  fainting  from  the  court." 

"Let  the  drab  die!"  retorted  the  wizard, 
with  indifference;  "as  for  Percy,  he  is  a 


A   MESSENGER  FROM  LONDON          235 

fool.  In  spite  of  all,  he  is  firm  for  the  king 
and  Cromwell ;  there  are  others  whom  we  will 
get.  Yet  this  woman's  death  will  go  far  to 
heal  the  differences  between  this  realm  and 
Rome ;  the  pope  but  fears  the  emperor,  and 
the  emperor's  aunt  is  now  avenged.  Happily, 
however,  the  visitation  of  the  monasteries  sets 
ill  on  the  stomachs  of  the  common  folk." 

"How  like  a  spider  you  are!"  said  Henge, 
watching  him.  "Sitting  here,  you  weave  and 
weave  until  one  fly  and  then  another  is  caught 
in  the  meshes  of  your  web,  and  then  you  gloat 
over  the  victim's  struggles." 

"As  you  will  gloat,"  remarked  the  astrolo 
ger,  "when  your  victim  is  caught  in  the  snare 
that  you  are  setting. " 

His  dark  companion  started  and  looked  at 
him  uneasily.  Even  in  his  bold  heart  there 
lurked  a  secret  dread  of  this  dwarfish  creature's 
power;  the  shining  eyes,  the  keen,  fox-like 
face  were  full  of  cunning,  wit,  relentless  pur 
pose,  and  Henge  knew  it. 

"What  hints  are  these?"  he  said  roughly. 
"I  am  not  a  man  to  plot  as  you  do;  I  am  no 
schemer,  but  an  open  foe." 

The  wizard  laughed  unpleasantly,  lifting  his 
brows  with  a  look  of  incredulity. 

"  An  open  foe  ?  "  he  remarked  placidly ;  "  so, 


236  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

so,  'twas  open  in  the  park  that  morning,  but 
wherefore  the  masks,  Sir  Barton  ?  " 

Henge  sprang  up  with  a  curse. 

"You  spying  devil!"  he  cried;  "how  came 
you  there  ? " 

At  this  the  little  man  laughed  long  and  loud, 
rocking  to  and  fro  on  his  stool,  tears  of  merri 
ment  gathering  in  his  eyes,  while  his  fellow 
conspirator  stood  staring  at  him  like  a  wild 
beast  at  bay. 

"I  was  not  there,"  he  said  at  last,  wiping 
his  eyes,  but  shaking  still  with  laughter,  —  "I 
was  not  there,  or  I  might  have  engaged  my 
Lady  Crabtree ;  an  equal  match  we  would  have 
made.  Sit  down,  my  son,  't  is  no  time  for 
such  quarrels ;  I  know  too  much,  too  much ! " 

Henge  stared  at  him,  his  hand  fondly  finger 
ing  his  sword. 

"Ay,  curse  you!"  he  said,  between  his 
teeth;  "you  know  too  much,  but  so  do  I,  Sir 
Wizard!" 

"  Only  that  which  would  cost  you  your  head 
long  before  it  harmed  a  hair  of  mine,"  the 
little  man  replied  calmly,  while  he  rose  and 
stirred  the  beverage  in  the  kettle. 

"What  devil's  broth  is  that?"  Henge  cried, 
turning  away  in  disgust;  "it  stinks  like  some 
filthy  gruel  brewed  for  death." 


A   MESSENGER  FROM  LONDON          237 

"Nay,"  said  the  wizard,  smiling,  "'tis  not 
poison;  thought  you  to  see  me  boiled  like 
Richard  Rouse?  When  this  is  thoroughly 
compounded,  the  smell  of  it  stealing  in  a  man's 
brain  will  make  him  forgetful  for  a  space; 
'twill  be  useful  to  you,  and  the  cost  is  trifling 
for  the  purpose,  a  hundred  guineas." 

Henge  shuddered.  "I  have  no  use  for  it," 
he  said  hoarsely,  "while  I  have  a  sword  or  a 
knife.  Keep  your  devil  messes  for  your  richer 
clients." 

Suddenly  there  was  a  deep  boom,  and  the 
house  shook,  the  windows  rattled. 

The  wizard  took  from  the  table  a  wine-glass 
which  stood  filled,  and  raised  it  in  the  air. 

"  My  Lady  Anne,  once  Queen  of  England, 
your  health  !  "  he  said,  and  drank  it. 

Henge  watched  him  with  a  look  of  dread. 

"'Tis  the  signal  that  she  is  beheaded,"  he 
said  with  a  ghastly  face;  "why  drink  the 
health  of  a  dead  woman  ? " 

The  little  man  grinned.  "Why  not?"  he 
asked.  "  I  may  the  sooner  conjure  her  to 
speak  to  thee. " 

"The  fiend  take  thy  conjuring  and  thy 
visions!"  exclaimed  Henge,  uneasily;  "keep 
them  to  frighten  petticoats." 

Sanders  chuckled  maliciously.     "You  have 


238  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

a  great  scorn  of  petticoats  since  a  woman 
rapped  your  pate,"  he  said. 

"Curse  you!"  cried  Sir  Barton;  "because 
you  have  me  in  your  power,  would  you  insult 
me?  Did  you  send  for  me  to-day  for  this  sole 
purpose,  your  amusement  ?  " 

"Nay,"  retorted  the  wizard,  calmly,  "you 
came  for  your  instructions.  Yonder  lie  the 
packets,  — one  to  carry  to  our  friends  in  York 
shire,  where,  my  lord  privy  seal  having  so 
roughly  handled  the  jury,  they  are  ripe  for  us; 
the  other  packet,  being  on  your  person,  may  be 
found,  if  need  be,  't  is  but  a  bluff." 

"A  likely  errand,"  said  Henge,  bitterly, 
"when  Cromwell's  spies  are  thick  as  harvest 
gnats.  Verily,  I  thank  you,  Sir  Wizard,  but  I 
made  no  such  bargain." 

Sanders  put  out  his  hands  with  a  deprecating 
gesture. 

"As  you  will,"  he  said  grimly;  "there  are 
others,  and  doubtless  if  your  visit  to  the  Lady 
Mary  was  known  —  " 

Henge  sat  staring  at  the  packets ;  in  his 
mind  had  flashed  a  scheme  so  devilish  that  he 
was  fascinated.  For  the  moment,  even  the 
wizard's  covert  threats  fell  on  deaf  ears;  sud 
denly  the  possibility  of  vengeance,"  on  a  larger 
scale  than  he  had  dreamed,  intoxicated  his 


A   MESSENGER  FROM  LONDON          239 

brain.     The  scheme  was  born  full  grown;  he 
had  but  to  execute  it. 

"I  will  take  the  packets,"  he  said,  wetting 
his  dry  lips  with  his  tongue;  "I  did  but  jest." 

The  wizard  regarded  him  uneasily;  some 
thing  in  the  sudden  change  of  manner  dis 
pleased  him,  yet  he  knew  the  man  to  be  too 
deeply  committed  for  retreat. 

"You  have  a  pleasant  way  of  jesting,"  he 
remarked  dryly,  "a  gentle  playfulness.  What 
is  your  haste  ?  " 

Sir  Barton  had  risen  and  gathered  up  the 
packets. 

"The  fumes  of  your  vile  drug  intoxicate 
me,"  Henge  said  curtly;  "I  must  breathe  in 
the  open  air  or  choke." 

The  wizard  smiled  and  gazed  fondly  at  his 
kettle. 

"'Tis  useful  stuff,"  he  replied,  "most  use 
ful." 

Sir  Barton  took  up  his  cloak  and  sword, 
eager  to  be  off. 

"  Some  day  you  will  fall  into  your  own  cal 
dron,"  he  remarked;  "but  I  tell  you,  Sanders, 
that  I  will  not  be  there  too." 

The  little  man  rubbed  his  hands,  laughing 
wickedly. 

"How  can  you  know?     'T  would  be  a  warm 


240  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

meeting,"    he    said,    and    stood   still  laughing 
when  Henge  closed  the  door  upon  him. 

At  Deptford,  on  that  fair  nineteenth  of  May, 
the  household  at  Wildrick  waited  for  tidings. 
In  the  warm  sunshine  they  stood  upon  the 
terrace  facing  the  river,  —  old  Madam,  Sir 
William  Carew,  Betty,  and  Lord  Raby. 

"There  was  some  confession  to  my  lord  of 
Canterbury,"  Carew  said,  walking  to  and  fro 
and  looking  curiously  at  the  river;  "  't  is  hoped 
that  a  bill  of  divorcement  may  save  the 
sentence." 

"  If  she  be  guilty,  she  deserves  the  sentence," 
remarked  Lady  Crabtree,  sternly;  "if  she  be 
innocent,  she  should  stand  acquitted.  She 
was  tried  by  her  peers." 

"  I  would  it  were  not  a  woman,"  Sir  William 
said  uneasily.  "I  like  not  the  death  on  the 
block  of  a  woman  and  a  queen." 

"Would  you  rather  burn  her?"  asked  old 
Madam,  coolly.  "  I  know  not  why  a  woman, 
being  wrong,  should  be  less  punished  than  a 
man,  or  more  so.  Men  are  quick  enough  to 
break  a  woman's  heart,  but  over-squeamish 
about  breaking  her  neck." 

"  Yonder  comes  your  messenger,"  Lord  Raby 
said,  pointing  to  the  river,  where  a  wherry  had 


A  MESSENGER  FROM  LONDON          241 

stopped  at  the  water-gate  and  a  manservant  in 
Lady  Crabtree's  livery  was  seen  disembarking. 

The  messenger  came  up  the  terrace,  and 
pausing  in  front  of  the  group  who  waited  so 
eagerly  for  tidings,  he  lifted  his  cap. 

"  The  Lady  Anne  Boleyn  died  on  the  Tower 
green  at  noon  to-day,"  he  said  in  a  monotonous 
tone;  "the  king's  grace  will  wed  to-morrow 
the  worshipful  lady,  Jane  Seymour.  Parlia 
ment  will  meet  to  pass  a  new  Act  of  Suc 
cession." 

There  was  a  silence;  Betty  turned  and  went 
weeping  into  the  house.  Simon  Raby  played 
nervously  with  his  sword.  Sir  William  looked 
about  him  with  a  stern  face. 

"He  is  the  King  of  England,"  he  said  with 
stubborn  loyalty,  raising  his  hat.  "  God  save 
the  king's  grace  and  give  the  realm  a  prince!" 

"Ay,"  retorted  my  Lady  Crabtree,  bitterly, 
"and  God  pity  his  wives!" 


16 


CHAPTER    XXII 

MY    LORD    PRIVY    SEAL 

LORD  RABY  and  Mistress  Carew  walked  up 
and  down  the  terrace  before  Wildrick  Hall, 
while  at  the  water-stairs  a  barge  waited  to  take 
him  to  Whitehall.  Her  white  gown  fluttered 
in  the  soft  breeze  as  she  walked,  and  in  her 
eyes  shone  the  light  of  the  spring  sunshine. 

"I  go  to  arrange  ray  affairs, "  he  said,  "so 
that  I  may  ride  with  you  and  your  uncle  to 
Mohun's  Ottery  to-morrow.  Happily,  there  is 
naught  to  detain  me  else,  dear  heart.  I  fear  I 
should  forget  my  duty  for  your  sake." 

Betty  smiled.  "  You  will  need  to  be  prompt, " 
she  said  lightly;  "my  uncle  waits  for  no  man 
and  is  ever  beforehand  with  time." 

"  'T  would  be  a  shame  on  me  to  be  a  laggard 
at  such  a  time,"  he  answered.  "Ah,  Betty, 
how  different  the  world  looks  when  love 
touches  it  with  golden  fingers!  I  do  think 
that  I  bear  no  man  malice  or  ill  will,  but  rather 
would  be  friends  even  with  mine  enemies,  but 
never  with  thine." 


MY  LORD  PRIVY  SEAL  243 

A  cloud  passed  over  her  face.  "  I  pray  you, " 
she  said  slowly  "  remember  to  avoid  Barton 
Henge.  My  Lady  Crabtree  predicts  that  he 
will  yet  endeavor  to  do  us  some  great  mischief, 
and  it  makes  me  uneasy  for  you." 

"Fear  not  for  me,  my  love,"  he  replied 
tenderly ;  "  and  as  for  you,  surely  the  love  that 
enfolds  you  shall  ward  off  this  snake.  But  I 
will  be  mindful  of  your  fears,  albeit  I  think  he 
will  avoid  me  as  he  would  a  pestilence." 

"I  know  not,"  she  said,  shaking  her  head; 
"my  heart  is  full  of  misgivings  when  I 
think  of  how  he  set  upon  you  like  a  cut 
throat." 

"And  I  cannot  but  rejoice  that  you  are 
anxious,"  he  said  softly,  "since  it  shows  that 
my  safety  concerns  you." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  tender  light  in 
her  eyes. 

" 'T  is  more  to  me  than  my  own,"  she  said 
very  low. 

He  kissed  her  hand  passionately,  although 
Sir  William  Carew  was  coming  down  the  walk 
toward  them. 

"Your  love,"  he  said,  "has  made  a  new  life 
for  me.  I  swore  when  I  left  Raby  Castle  that 
I  would  not  return  until  I  brought  it  the  fairest 
mistress  in  all  England." 


244  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"Alas,  sir,"  she  answered,  smiling,  "'twas 
a  foolish  oath,  and  not  likely  to  be  ful 
filled." 

Without  regarding  their  feelings,  Sir  Wil 
liam  Carew  cut  short  their  talk,  which  might 
have  continued  long;  for  they  were  lovers,  and 
knew  how  to  make  much  of  a  little  matter. 
He  held  a  package  of  papers  in  his  hand,  sealed 
with  red  seals,  and  gave  it  to  Raby. 

"  I  would  have  that  sent  by  a  sure  hand  to 
Cromwell,"  he  said;  "it  pertains  to  some 
matters  of  the  county  of  Devon  and  claims  his 
eye,  yet  is  not  so  important  that  I  need  take 
it  in  person." 

"It  shall  be  delivered  directly,"  Raby  re 
plied,  putting  it  in  his  breast;  "'tis  time  I 
went,  doubtless  you  came  to  remind  me." 

"Ay,"  Carew  answered,  smiling;  "I  remem 
ber  the  days  when  I  lingered  so.  It  is  nearly 
noon,  however,  and  you  were  to  have  gone  an 
hour  since." 

"  My  excuse  is  so  admirable  that  I  deserve 
forgiveness,"  Simon  said,  laughing;  but  he 
hastened  his  farewells,  and  in  a  few  moments 
he  and  Sir  William  were  walking  to  the  water- 
stairs  together,  while  Betty  waved  her  hand 
kerchief  from  the  terrace. 

"You  have  your  rogue  yet  with  you,  I  see," 


MY  LORD  PRIVY  SEAL  245 

Carew  remarked,  his  eye  lighting  on  Raby's 
groom. 

"Shaxter?"  Simon  replied,  smiling;  "ay,  I 
had  forgotten  your  prejudice.  He  is  a  useful 
fellow." 

"He  looks  it!"  said  Carew,  with  a  shrug; 
"farewell,  and  forget  not  the  packet." 

Looking  back  as  the  barge  swept  away,  Raby 
saw  the  tall  white  figure  on  the  terrace  and 
the  fluttering  of  her  handkerchief.  The  picture 
of  the  great  stone  house,  the  green  slope  of  the 
terrace,  and  the  beautiful  girl  waving  him  fare 
well,  framed  itself  in  his  mind  and  was  a  solace 
to  him  in  the  months  which  followed. 

He  was  so  light-hearted  that  he  whistled  to 
himself  as  the  boat  went  on  to  London.  The 
river  was  full  of  water-craft,  and  the  scene  was 
gay.  The  same  river  that  had  borne  the  un 
happy  Anne  Boleyn  to  the  Tower  smiled  in 
the  sunshine  and  rippled  gleefully  from  the 
strong  strokes  of  the  oars.  Life  was  full  of 
sweetness  to  Simon  Raby,  and  he  sat  in  the 
boat  with  a  smiling  face  and  a  ready  greeting 
for  any  chance  acquaintance.  In  the  afternoon 
he  would  go  to  my  lord  privy  seal  in  person, 
now  he  had  matters  of  his  own  to  attend  to. 
He  must  go  to  his  haberdasher's  and  his 
barber's;  he  had  a  dozen  errands,  and  presently 


246  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

found  dust  upon  his  clothes  and  went  to  his 
old  lodgings  to  change  them.  Shaxter  was 
with  him  as  usual  and  helped  him  to  make  the 
change;  he  put  on  a  rich  suit  of  satin  with  a 
short  cape  of  velvet,  and  bidding  his  attendant 
remain  in  his  apartments  until  his  return,  made 
his  way  down  the  stairs  alone  and  opened  the 
street  door.  Looking  out  into  the  road,  he 
saw  no  one,  and  came  out  humming  a  new 
song,  popular  at  court.  He  had  taken  but  two 
or  three  steps  when  three  men  stepped  out 
from  under  an  adjacent  arched  doorway.  They 
barred  his  progress,  and  he  looked  in  surprise 
to  recognize  the  captain  of  the  watch. 

"What  now,  Ludlow?"  he  said;  "I  need  a 
little  leeway  to  pass  your  company." 

"  My  Lord  Raby,  you  are  arrested !  "  was  the 
reply,  as  the  officer  laid  a  heavy  hand  upon  his 
shoulder. 

Raby  drew  his  sword.  "You  villain!"  he 
said,  "this  will  be  a  sorry  jest  for  you." 

"I  arrest  you  in  the  king's  name,"  repeated 
the  captain,  sharply;  but  so  angry  was  Simon 
that  for  a  moment  they  grappled,  and  the 
officer's  assistants  were  forced  to  take  part  in 
disarming  the  furious  nobleman. 

"Of  what  avail  is  this  resistance,  my  lord?" 
cried  Ludlow.  "I  tell  you,  as  your  friend,  you 


MY  LORD  PRIVY  SEAL  247 

had  best  submit.  I  was  ordered  to  take  you 
and  must,  sorely  against  my  will." 

"  Upon  what  charge  ? "  demanded  Raby, 
fiercely;  "'tis  an  evil  time  if  an  innocent 
man  may  not  walk  safe  upon  the  streets  of 
London." 

The  captain  shrugged  his  shoulders.  He 
was  a  kindly,  honest  man,  but  he  could  only 
discharge  his  office. 

"  I  have  the  warrant  for  your  arrest,  my 
lord,"  he  answered  soberly,  "from  my  lord 
privy  seal ;  but  the  reason  of  it  ? "  he  raised 
his  brows,  "you  must  ask  the  man  who  set  the 
trap,  not  him  who  merely  springs  it.  Verily, 
Lord  Raby,  I  trust  it  may  be  no  great  matter, 
for  your  own  sake.  Mayhap  you  know  well 
what  folly  brought  it." 

"Not  I,"  said  Simon,  angrily;  "'tis  an 
insult.  Where  are  you  taking  me,  Sir 
Captain? " 

"To  my  lord  privy  seal,"  he  answered, 
glancing  with  some  compassion  at  the  prisoner's 
indignant  face;  "belike  he  has  some  questions 
to  ask.  But  come,  here  I  linger  talking  like 
a  featherpate,  and  Cromwell  waits.  I  would 
have  left  you  your  sword,  my  lord,  but  that 
you  were  so  thirsty  for  blood." 

"I   will   go   quietly,"   Raby  said,    in   great 


248  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

perplexity  and  wrath;  "it  was  foolish  to  fly  at 
thy  throat  for  nothing,  but  it  makes  my  blood 
boil." 

"For  that  I  do  not  blame  thee,"  the  officer 
replied,  "though  it  doth  usually  make  a  man's 
blood  run  cold." 

"You  speak  for  a  guilty  man,"  said  Raby, 
sharply;  "no  honest  man  would  shiver  at  an 
insult." 

There  were  but  few  more  words  exchanged, 
the  little  company  closed  up  about  the  prisoner, 
and  the  walk  through  the  streets  was  a  rapid 
one.  Many  stared,  and  some  insulting  jests 
were  made.  It  was  no  uncommon  sight;  dis 
loyalty  was  rife  enough  to  make  the  arrest  of  a 
nobleman  a  matter  of  usual  occurrence.  They 
passed  some  of  the  gay  young  gentlemen  of 
the  court,  who  looked  aside  on  seeing  their 
acquaintance  in  such  company.  He  was  taken 
to  Cromwell's  house,  and  waited  but  a  little 
while  at  the  door  before  he  was  brought  before 
him. 

Cromwell  was  in  his  private  room  sitting  at 
a  table  by  the  window,  and  a  large  mass  of 
papers  lay  before  him.  It  was  his  custom  to 
apply  himself  closely  to  business,  and  much  of 
it  was  transacted  by  his  own  hand.  Here  was 
a  man  who  held  the  threads  of  many  conspira- 


MY  LORD   PRIVY  SEAL  249 

cics,  whose  falcon  eye  was  peering  into  every 
secret  lurking-place  from  Land's  End  to  the 
Tweed,  whose  relentless  grip  closed  on  the 
traitor  like  a  vise.  His  back  was  to  the  light 
where  he  sat,  so  that  his  strong  face  was  in  the 
shadow,  but  his  penetrating  eyes  were  bent  on 
Raby  at  his  entrance  with  a  not  unkindly  look. 

"Master  Raby,  I  had  it  in  my  mind  to  send 
you  some  advertisement  of  my  regret  at  your 
father's  death,"  he  said  gravely,  "when  this 
charge  was  lodged  against  you,  to  my  infinite 
surprise." 

"  Sir,  I  am  ignorant  of  the  cause  of  my 
arrest,"  Raby  replied,  "nor  can  I  imagine 
what  accusation  has  been  made  against  me." 

"  You  are  charged  with  high  treason,"  Crom 
well  said,  turning  over  some  papers  before 
him,  "having  conspired  with  certain  persons 
against  the  safety  of  the  realm,  and  the  life  of 
the  king's  grace." 

The  expression  of  amazement  deepened  on 
the  prisoner's  face. 

"My  lord,"  he  said,  "I  am  dumbfounded;  I 
have  been  absent  more  than  two  months  in 
Sussex,  busy  with  the  settlement  of  my  father's 
estate,  which,  as  I  think  you  know,  was  much 
in  need  of  my  administration.  As  for  consort 
ing  with  conspirators  —  you,  who  have  known 


250  THE  HOUSE    OF   THE    WIZARD 

me  from  my  boyhood,  should  know  the  folly  of 
the  charge.  I  thought  my  loyalty  to  the  king's 
highness  was  established  by  faithful  service. 
This  accusation  is  but  the  baseless  falsehood 
of  mine  enemies." 

"  My  Lord  Raby,  my  heart  inclines  to  believe 
you ;  I  have  ever  held  a  good  opinion  of  your 
family,"  Cromwell  rejoined,  "but  the  nature  of 
this  charge  doth  not  allow  it  to  be  overlooked. 
But  ye  shall  have  an  ample  hearing.  Sir, 
there  is  a  strange  house  here  upon  the  Thames, 
I  think  you  know  it, — I  see  you  do, — the 
house  of  the  wizard,  Zachary  Sanders.  You 
were  there  one  night  this  winter,  and  upon 
what  business?" 

Raby's  face  had  changed  at  the  mention  of 
the  wizard's  house ;  the  shrieks  of  Anne  Boleyn 
had  a  strange  trick  of  haunting  him. 

"I  was  there  indeed,"  he  said  frankly,  know 
ing  no  harm  could  come  now  of  the  truth, 
"with  Queen  Anne  and  her  ladies.  It  was  an 
unhappy  whim  of  the  queen's,  and  the  wizard 
caused  her  to  see  so  evil  a  vision  that  I  was 
near  seizing  him  as  a  traitor;  would,  indeed, 
have  delivered  him  to  the  guard  but  for  her 
grace,  who  would  not  have  the  matter  known, ' 
fearing  the  king's  displeasure  at  her  folly." 

Cromwell's  face  clouded  at  the  mention  of 


MY  LORD  PRIVY  SEAL  2$  I 

Anne.  He  had  seen  her  die,  sent  to  perform 
that  duty  by  the  king,  and  the  man  who  had 
been  faithful  to  Wolsey,  in  the  misery  of 
Esher  house,  was  not  without  compassion. 

"What  was  the  queen's  vision?"  he  asked 
moodily. 

"She  saw  her  life,  and  her  death  upon  the 
block,"  Simon  replied;  "and  the  poor  lady 
was  thrown  into  such  terror  that  she  would  by 
no  means  be  quieted,  and  for  hours  her  shrieks 
were  heard  at  Greenwich.  By  Saint  Thomas  ! 
they  ring  yet  in  my  ears." 

Cromwell  was  silent  for  a  while;  evidently 
the  frankness  and  sincerity  of  Raby,  together 
with  his  previous  knowledge  of  him,  made  it 
difficult  to  reconcile  the  man  with  the 
accusation. 

"I  will  be  frank  with  you,  sir,"  my  lord 
privy  seal  said,  at  last ;  "  I  make  no  effort  to 
conceal  the  perils  of  this  realm,  you  know 
them.  My  Lady  Mary  Tudor,  by  her  stiff- 
necked  attitude  toward  the  king's  grace  and 
the  Act  of  Succession,  hath  made  herself  a 
stumbling-block,  and  a  point  round  which  the 
malcontents  may  gather.  Then  there  are  the 
papists,  ever  stirring  in  the  cause  of  the  Bishop 
of  Rome,  and  with  these  the  country  gentle 
men,  who  detest  the  breaking  up  of  the  mon- 


252  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

asteries  and  the  abbeys,  with  no  profit  to 
themselves,  and  the  travelling  friars,  and,  God 
wot,  I  know  not  who,  to  stir  up  mischief 
which  would  bring  us  swift  to  civil  war.  At 
such  times,  my  Lord  Raby,  I  may  not  be 
lenient.  The  charge  against  you  is  so  grave 
that  I  would  have  you  make  a  clean  breast  of 
the  matter.  You  came  to  town  this  morning 
from  Deptford ;  what  was  your  errand  ?  " 

Raby  thought  at  the  instant  of  Sir  William's 
packet  and  put  his  hand  in  his  doublet  and 
drew  it  out. 

"  My  lord,  I  came  to  attend  to  some  matters 
of  my  own,  of  a  petty  nature,  but  mainly  to 
attend  the  king's  grace  and  also  to  give  you 
these  papers." 

Cromwell  stretched  out  his  hand  for  the 
packet  and  broke  the  seals  without  waiting  for 
further  explanation  from  Lord  Raby.  He 
unfolded  the  wrappers  and  began  to  go  through 
the  papers  without  making  any  comment. 
Simon,  watching  his  grave  face,  read  nothing 
after  the  first  quick  flash  of  surprise.  Of  the 
nature  of  Carew's  communication,  Raby  was 
ignorant,  but  believing  it  to  refer  wholly  to 
affairs  in  Devon,  he  did  not  greatly  concern 
himself  about  it.  His  mind  was  but  too 
actively  engaged  with  the  state  of  his  own 


MY  LORD  PRIVY  SEAL  253 

fortune.  His  arrest  had  been  so  sudden,  so 
entirely  without  reason,  that  he  found  no  im 
mediate  solution  of  his  difficulty.  He  noticed 
that  Cromwell,  with  all  his  apparent  frankness, 
held  back  the  full  substance  of  the  charge 
against  him,  and  the  names  and  condition  of 
his  accusers.  Secure  in  his  own  innocence, 
Raby  did  not  doubt  his  ultimate  exculpation, 
but  he  knew  not  what  course  to  pursue,  whose 
name  to  mention,  fearing  to  drag  others  into 
his  misfortune.  While  these  thoughts  passed 
rapidly  through  his  mind,  Cromwell  was  deeply 
engaged  in  the  perusal  of  Sir  William's 
packet;  every  paper  was  carefully  examined 
and  some  were  read  twice  over.  Simon  began 
to  think  that  Carew's  business  would  indefi 
nitely  prolong  his  own  suspense,  when  the 
king's  minister  looked  up.  However,  he  did 
not  address  Raby;  his  face  was  inscrutable; 
he  touched  a  bell  upon  the  table  and  immedi 
ately  an  attendant  replied  to  the  summons. 

"Call  Captain  Ludlow, "  he  said  calmly; 
then  turning  to  Raby,  he  looked  at  him  with 
cold  eyes.  "Sir,"  he  said,  "you  gave  me  the 
wrong  packet." 

Simon  returned  the  look  with  surprise. 

"  I  had  but  the  one,  my  lord,"  he  said. 

The  officers  had  entered  at  Cromwell's  orders. 


254  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"  If  you  had  but  one,  you  did  a  strange  thing 
to  give  it  to  me,"  said  my  lord  privy  seal;  then 
to  the  captain  of  the  watch,  "  Ludlow,  remove 
Lord  Raby  under  strong  guard  to  the  Tower  to 
await  his  examination." 

Taken  by  surprise  at  the  entire  change  in 
Cromwell's  manner,  Simon  was  about  to  say 
that  the  papers  were  from  Carew,  when  a 
second  thought  made  him  hesitate.  If  Sir 
William's  name  was  not  upon  them  it  would 
be  strange  indeed,  and  he  did  not  wish  to 
bring  him  under  greater  displeasure. 

"My  lord,"  he  cried,  "I  pray  you  to  remem 
ber  that  I  was  but  the  bearer  of  those  papers ; 
I  am  ignorant  of  their  purport." 

Cromwell's  face  was  both  incredulous  and 
unrelenting. 

"  You  are  not  the  man  to  bear  such  papers 
ignorantly,  Raby,"  he  said  harshly;  "who 
gave  them  to  you?" 

Simon  started;  then  Sir  William's  name  did 
not  appear.  A  horrible  doubt  assailed  him, 
but  he  was  a  man  of  stubborn  loyalty  to  his 
friends.  He  closed  his  lips;  if  his  silence 
could  shelter  Carew  it  was  well,  especially 
since  he  was  groping  in  the  dark. 

Cromwell,  who  had  waited  one  impatient 
moment  for  his  answer,  smiled  grimly.  He 


MY  LORD  PRIVY  SEAL  255 

had  seen  too  many  men  turn  traitors  to  feel 
amazement  at  the  aspect  of  one. 

"You  are  tongue-tied,"  he  said  sternly, 
"  It  may  be  we  must  enforce  the  matter  from 
you,"  he  added,  touching  the  papers;  "never 
saw  I  a  greater  batch  of  treason  in  so  little 
space." 

"  My  lord,  I  am  innocent ! "  exclaimed 
Raby;  "I—" 

"Remove  the  prisoner,"  Cromwell  inter 
rupted  coldly,  making  a  sign  to  his  officers, 
and  returning  to  his  work  without  another 
word  or  glance  at  the  nobleman. 

A  short  while  afterwards,  Simon  Raby  en 
tered  at  the  water-gate  of  the  Tower,  and  its 
gloomy  doors  closed  upon  him,  shutting  out 
the  beauty  and  the  fragrance  of  the  summer 
world  and  separating  him  from  the  woman  he 
loved.  The  king's  prisoner,  charged  with  high 
treason,  had  little  cause  to  rejoice  in  his  lot. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

MISTRESS    BETTY    USES    HER    WHIP 

TIDINGS  of  an  arrest  for  high  treason  travelled 
but  slowly.  The  movements  of  the  govern 
ment  were  swift  and  secret.  A  man  might  be 
pounced  upon,  examined,  committed  to  prison, 
and  his  own  family  be  unconscious  of  his  situa 
tion.  It  was  a  golden  opportunity  for  the  false 
witness;  for  the  public  gratification  of  private 
malice.  The  marvellous  stories  told  at  the 
trials  showed  the  luxuriance  of  the  popular 
imagination. 

No  intimation  of  Lord  Raby's  fate  reached 
the  household  at  Deptford.  He  had  been 
expected  to  return  almost  immediately,  but  he 
came  not,  and  his  absence  was  attributed  to 
some  unlooked-for  business.  At  first,  Sir 
William  threatened  to  set  out  for  Devon  with 
out  him,  but  seeing  his  niece's  disappointment 
and  remembering  that  Raby  had  accepted  a 
commission  from  him,  he  decided  to  wait, 
although  he  chafed  under  the  delay. 


MISTRESS  BETTY  USES  HER    WHIP 

The  third  day  after  Raby's  departure,  Mis 
tress  Betty  was  riding  through  the  fields  behind 
Lady  Crabtree's  house.  She  had  been  out  with 
her  uncle  and  was  returning  alone  by  a  short 
cut,  leaving  Sir  William  some  distance  behind, 
engaged  in  conversation  with  an  acquaintance. 
The  meadow  through  which  Betty  rode  lay 
behind  the  orchards  and  was  skirted  on  the 
right  by  a  copse  of  beech-trees.  She  was 
walking  her  horse  and  had  come  nearly  to  the 
middle  of  the  field,  when  a  man  stepped  out 
from  the  shadow  of  the  trees.  At  first,  taking 
him  for  one  of  old  Madam's  household,  she  did 
not  notice  him,  and  it  was  not  until  he  had 
fairly  placed  himself  before  her  horse  that  she 
recognized  Sir  Barton  Henge.  Her  animal 
stopping  of  its  own  accord,  Henge  caught  the 
bridle  and  for  the  moment  held  her  prisoner. 
She  was  not  naturally  fearful  and  her  only 
feeling  was  one  of  indignation. 

"Let  go  the  bridle,  sir!"  she  said  angrily; 
"what  right  have  you  to  stop  me? " 

"I  have  tidings  for  you,  fair  mistress,"  Sir 
Barton  replied,  with  an  evil  smile  upon  his 
handsome  face;  "tidings  of  my  Lord  Raby, 
which  are  for  your  ear  alone." 

"Sir,  loose  my  horse!"  she  cried,  vainly 
endeavoring  to  drive  the  animal  forward  or  to 


258  THE  HOUSE    OF  THE    WIZARD 

one  side,  but  Henge  was  too  strong  for  her 
and  held  the  creature's  head. 

"You  seem  not  over-anxious  to  hear  tidings 
of  your  lover,"  he  said  mockingly;  "yet  it  may 
be  that  you  will  presently  find  it  difficult  to 
get  any  more." 

Something  in  his  manner,  more  than  his 
words,  drove  the  blood  to  her  heart.  What 
had  this  wretch  done?  Where  was  Simon 
Raby  ?  Yet  so  little  was  she  like  other  women 
that  she  forbore  to  cry  out  or  ask  a  question. 
She  sat  her  horse  like  a  statue,  her  face  white 
and  her  great  dark  eyes  fixed  on  her  tormentor. 
She  scorned  him,  scorned  even  his  power  to 
injure  her,  and  he  saw  it  and  hated  her  the 
more;  for  between  this  wild  passion,  that  such 
men  call  love,  and  hatred  there  is  but  a  single 
step.  Her  beauty  set  his  blood  on  fire,  her 
scorn  of  him  awoke  every  evil  impulse  in  his 
breast  and  made  him  long  to  humble  her. 

"So,"  he  said,  with  keen  anticipation  of 
the  pain  he  had  in  store  for  her,  "you  have  no 
questions  to  ask,  and  Simon  Raby's  fate  is  a 
matter  of  indifference  to  you?  'T  is  well;  it 
would  be  a  shame  to  spoil  those  bright  eyes 
with  tears  —  even  for  a  lover." 

She  set  her  teeth  and  struck  her  horse  upon 
the  flank;  the  animal  plunged,  but  Henge 


MISTRESS  BETTY  USES  HER    WHIP     259 

held  him  yet.  She  looked  back  wildly  for  aid, 
but  she  could  not  see  her  uncle.  What  folly 
had  made  her  ride  on  alone? 

"Well,  well,  I  must  tell  you,"  Henge  said, 
smiling  in  evil  triumph,  "since  you  are  too 
shy  to  ask.  Lord  Raby  is  in  the  Tower." 

She  knew  the  man  to  be  a  villain,  yet  some 
thing  in  his  manner  convinced  her  that  he 
spoke  the  truth.  Raby's  long  absence  was 
explained,  and  a  chill  of  horror  crept  over  her, 
but  her  pride  sustained  her  resolution. 

"He  was  taken  the  day  he  left  you  here," 
continued  Henge,  a  little  baffled  by  her  manner 
and  her  silence;  "he  is  charged  with  high 
treason  and  is  like  to  suffer  for  his  sins.  All 
these  years  he  has  but  fawned  upon  the  king's 
grace  to  betray  him.  A  traitor  and  a  pretty 
rogue,  this  lover  of  yours,  Mistress  Carew ! " 

Wrath  overcame  Mistress  Betty's  womanly 
fears;  in  her  right  hand  she  held  a  stout  whip, 
and  she  sat  upright  in  her  saddle,  looking  like 
a  beautiful  young  fury. 

"  You  knave  !  "  she  cried ;  "  you  lying  knave ! " 
and  she  struck  him  full  across  the  face,  below 
the  eyes,  with  such  sudden  violence  that  he 
relaxed  his  hold,  and  her  horse  plunging,  set 
her  free,  and  dashed  away  across  the  field, 
while  Sir  Barton  Henge  stood  staring  after 


260  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

her,  a  curse  upon  his  lips  and  on  his  face  the 
great  red  welt  that  followed  her  lash.  And  she, 
riding  to  the  house,  dismounted,  and  running 
into  the  hall,  fell  on  her  knees  before  old 
Madam,  and  hiding  her  face  in  her  lap,  cried 
out  that  Simon  Raby  was  in  the  Tower. 

"Yea,  I  know,"  said  my  lady,  calmly,  "and 
they  have  taken  the  wizard,  Zachary  Sanders; 
't  is  a  pretty  mess.  Come,  my  wench,  tears 
will  not  mend  the  matter  nor  unlock  the  jail." 

As  she  spoke,  Sir  William  came  in,  fresh 
from  a  gallop  across  the  fields,  and  smiling; 
but  at  the  sight  of  Betty's  white  face  and  the 
frown  between  old  Madam's  brows,  he  stopped. 

"What  means  this?"  he  asked;  "you  look 
as  if  you  had  seen  a  corpse-light." 

"There  be  tidings  from  London,"  Lady 
Crabtree  answered ;  "  Lord  Raby  hath  gone  to 
the  Tower  accused  of  high  treason." 

Amazement  tied  Sir  William's  tongue;  he 
seated  himself  opposite  his  cousin  and  waited 
for  an  explanation,  his  honest  face  much 
clouded.  Lady  Crabtree  spread  out  a  let 
ter  on  her  knee  and  prepared  to  read  the 
news. 

"  This  comes  from  Mistress  Gaynsford,  Queen 
Anne's  maid,"  she  said,  her  open  hand  rest 
ing  on  the  long  roll  of  parchment;  "she  is 


MISTRESS  BETTY  USES  HER    WHIP     26 1 

a  gossip,  but  I  doubt  not  the  truth  of  the 
matter." 

"Let  us  hear  it,  Zenobia,"  Carew  returned 
impatiently. 

"She  says  of  the  arrest,"  began  my  lady, 
reading,  " '  Lord  Raby  was  taken  on  a  charge, 
secretly  preferred  to  my  lord  privy  seal,  and 
on  examination,  a  packet  was  found  on  his 
person,  filled  with  treasonable  papers,  and 
exposing  the  network  of  a  huge  conspiracy. 
Many  names  were  on  a  list  therein;  whose  we 
know  not,  but  Cromwell  and  the  king's  grace 
have  the  papers,  and  doubtless  many  tremble 
in  the  fear  of  apprehension.  No  one  knows 
where  the  lightning  hath  struck  or  who  is 
spared,  but  't  is  said  the  gentlemen  in  the 
northern  counties  are  many  of  them  singed. 
The  strangest  part  of  the  matter  is  that  there 
runs  a  story  that  Raby  gave  this  budget  to  rny 
lord  privy  seal  himself  with  every  show  of 
innocence,  and  when  it  was  thought  that  he 
did  it  through  an  error,  having  two  upon  his 
person,  he  was  searched,  but  none  other  was 
found;  and  what  madness  made  him  give  this 
to  Cromwell,  no  man  can  devise.'  ' 

"'Tis  passing  strange,"  remarked  Sir  Wil 
liam  ;  "  where  was  my  packet  ?  " 

"'These   papers,'"    continued   old  Madam, 


262  THE  HOUSE    OF  THE    WIZARD 

reading,  "'contained  such  full  betrayal  of  the 
wizard  Sanders,  who  so  frightened  the  late 
queen,  that  the  order  for  his  arrest  was 
given.  The  fashion  in  which  he  was  taken 
will  furnish  you  with  entertainment  withal. 
The  man  who  played  the  informer,  in  the  first 
instance,  before  Raby's  arrest,  had  mastered 
almost  every  secret  of  the  strange  house  upon 
the  river.  He  told  the  officers  of  the  guard 
who  went  to  take  the  astrologer  that  there  was 
a  tunnel  from  the  cellar  of  the  house,  and  that 
they  must  guard  first  the  outlet  of  that  before 
they  strove  to  force  the  upper  part.  The 
entrance  in  the  house  he  had  never  found, 
but  the  outlet  by  the  river  he  knew.  They 
said  'twas  scarce  larger  than  a  mole-hill  and 
cleverly  concealed.  Well,  here  sat  down  three 
of  the  king's  men,  while  others  went  and 
searched  the  house.  There  they  were  transfixed 
by  terror,  for  when  each  one  looked  in  that 
magic  mirror,  he  saw  the  devil,  horns  and 
hoofs  and  tail,  but  when  they  all  looked,  it 
was  blank.  A  young  page  with  them  had  a  fit 
from  fright.  'Tis  said  by  some  that  it  is  only 
too  faithful  a  glass.  They  found  not  the 
wizard,  nor  was  there  a  bit  of  writing  there. 
But  the  trio  by  the  hole  in  the  ground  had 
better  luck.  Out  of  it  the  magician  appeared 


BETTY   USES  HER    WHIP      263 

so  suddenly,  and  was  so  near  the  color  of  the 
earth  in  his  russet  cloak,  that  he  frightened 
them  so  much  that  two  fell  sprawling  in  the 
river  mud,  and  had  not  the  third  been  a  big 
man  and  valiant,  my  lord  wizard  would  have 
escaped.  They  have  him  now  safe  in  the 
Tower,  though  't  is  said  he  rides  out  of  it  each 
night  upon  a  moonbeam  and  returns  when  the 
cocks  are  crowing. 

"  '  How  came  my  Lord  Raby  to  conspire  with 
this  man?  I  remember  that  he  and  Francis 
Bryan  were  ready  to  slit  his  throat  the  night 
the  queen  took  her  fright.  Yet  't  is  said  that 
the  case  is  clear  enough,  and  there  is  some 
wonder  when  the  trial  will  come  off. 

'"The  court  is  dull;  Queen  Jane  is  not 
yet  crowned,  though  there  is  constant  talk  of 
it.  She  will  have  no  maids  save  those  who 
wear  a  girdle  of  over  a  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  pearls.  Anne  Basset  had  one  from  her 
mother,  Lady  Lisle,  of  a  hundred  and  twenty, 
and  she  could  not  appear  in  it.  The  king's 
leg  is  said  to  be  worse  than  reported;  he  is 
fond  of  the  queen,  whom  some  think  fairer 
than  Anne;  she  can,  at  least,  wear  more  fine 
clothes  at  once  and  look  better,  while  Queen 
Anne  was  more  beautiful  in  simple  robes. 
This  queen  is  very  gracious  to  the  Lady  Mary 


264  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

Tudor  and  't  is  thought  will  win  upon  the 
papists.  She  is  —  ' 

"Oh,  hush!"  ejaculated  Carew;  "the  wo 
man's  pen  is  worse  than  her  tongue.  I  must 
to  London  to  see  what  can  be  done  for  Raby; 
'tis  a  bad  business,  and  I  understand  it  not." 

All  the  while,  Mistress  Betty  had  listened 
with  a  pale  face,  resolution  growing  in  it  as 
the  matter  unfolded  itself.  She  did  not  speak 
of  Barton  Henge ;  his  part  in  it  sank  into 
insignificance  now. 

"Uncle,"  she  said  firmly,  "I  will  go  with 
you." 

"What,  wench?"  he  said  in  surprise;  "of 
what  use  would  you  be?" 

"Nevertheless,  deny  me  not,"  Betty  said; 
"I  would  go  and,  at  least,  I  will  not  hinder 
you." 

"Let  her  have  her  way,  William,"  Lady 
Crabtree  said;  "the  girl's  face  will  help  you, 
and  she  is  in  a  mood  to  fret  out  her  heart 
here." 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

LOVE    AT    THE    TRAITOR'S    GATE 

SIR  WILLIAM  CAREW  and  Mistress  Betty 
were  both  kindly  received  by  Cromwell.  He 
gave  them  a  private  audience,  and  Betty  sat  in 
the  window  recess  in  silent  suspense,  while 
her  uncle  talked  with  the  king's  minister. 
Cromwell's  face  was  calm  and  inscrutable; 
Carew's  deeply  furrowed  with  anxiety.  The 
one  was  master  of  the  situation,  the  other 
exceedingly  perplexed  and  doubtful  of  a  way 
in  which  to  help  his  friend. 

"My  lord,"  he  said  gravely,  "I  come  to 
inquire  into  the  arrest  of  Simon  Raby,  and 
to  know  the  fate  of  certain  papers  that  he  bore 
of  mine." 

"He  was  arrested  upon  the  charge  of  high 
treason,"  Cromwell  replied,  "and  I  regret  to 
say  that,  upon  examination,  the  evidence 
against  him  was  materially  strengthened.  I 
regret  it  exceedingly,  for  I  knew  his  father  and 
have  ever  held  a  good  opinion  of  the  son. 
But  unhappily,  Sir  William,  in  these  times  a 


266  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

man  knows  not  where  to  look  for  backsliding; 
'tis  on  every  side,  and  the  younger  men  are 
brought  into  temptation  more  easily." 

"I  find  it  hard  to  believe  so  much  ill  of  my 
Lord  Raby,"  Carew  said  stoutly;  "he  hath 
ever  borne  the  character  of  an  honest  man.  I 
pray  you,  sir,  to  allow  him  full  opportunity  to 
clear  himself  of  this  foul  charge." 

"Sir,"  answered  Cromwell,  "every  subject 
of  the  king  hath  justice.  Look  you,  Carew,  I 
have  no  wish  to  cut  off  this  man's  liberty.  It 
is  my  unpleasant  duty  to  stand  for  the  king  in 
these  matters,  and  the  odium  of  it  lies  on  me. 
No  man  grieved  more  deeply  than  I  for  the 
loss  of  More,  yet  More's  death  is  charged  to 
me.  'T  is  like  the  outcry  against  the  king's 
lawyer,  Dr.  Rich,  because  he  went  to  Kimbol- 
ton  in  the  matter  of  the  will  of  the  princess 
dowager.  The  papists  claim  that  her  property 
was  not  respected.  Yet  the  truth  is  plain  as 
daylight.  The  Lady  Catherine  claimed  to  be 
the  king's  wife  and  left  no  will  save  in  the 
form  of  a  petition  to  his  grace;  and  dying  as 
she  did,  in  law,  a  sole  woman,  the  administra 
tion  of  her  estate  lapsed  to  the  next  of  kin,  the 
emperor.  But  for  the  work  of  the  attorney- 
general,  the  king  could  not  have  fulfilled  her 
bequests.  Yet  Rich  and  I  were  pilloried  for 


LOVE  AT  THE    TRAITOR'S   GATE         267 

the  matter,  which  was  but  a  woman's  obstinacy 
and  the  plain  course  of  the  law.  Every  rogue 
who  goes  to  prison,  every  gentleman  who  is 
sent  to  the  Tower,  raises  the  hue  and  cry 
against  me  as  the  root  of  evil.  'T  would 
pleasure  me  far  more  to  set  them  all  free,  but, 
unhappily,  the  safety  of  the  realm  forces  me  to 
a  different  course.  As  for  Raby,  I  found  upon 
his  person  papers  more  full  of  treason  than  an 
egg  of  meat.  A  lamb  he  may  be,  but,  verily, 
he  seemeth  a  wolf." 

''He  is  innocent!"  cried  Betty,  unable  to 
keep  silence  longer;  "give  him  but  the  oppor 
tunity  to  prove  it." 

Cromwell  glanced  in  surprise  at  the  ani 
mated  and  beautiful  face  as  she  stood  before 
him,  one  hand  pressed  against  her  heart  and 
the  other  outstretched,  as  if  imploring  mercy. 

"  What  wench  have  you  here,  Carew  ?  "  he 
asked;  "such  eyes  should  plead  a  cause  if 
there  were  not  such  lips  to  enforce  it." 

"My  niece,  my  lord,"  said  Carew,  hastily 
laying  a  restraining  hand  on  Betty;  "a  silly 
fool,  who  knows  not  enough  to  hold  her  tongue 
before  her  betters." 

"I  cannot  sit  by  and  hear  an  innocent  man 
accused  and  not  defend  him  !  "  exclaimed  Betty, 
with  all  her  natural  impatience. 


268  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

Cromwell  smiled  grimly.  "This  nobleman 
hath  truly  won  an  advocate,"  he  remarked;  "I 
take  it  that  the  young  lady  hath  more  than  a 
common  interest  in  him." 

"They  were  but  lately  affianced,"  said  Sir 
William  shortly,  his  cheek  flushing,  "but  that 
will  be  soon  broken  if  he  proves  the  traitor." 

"I  am  sorry,  fair  mistress,  to  lose  you  a 
lover,"  Cromwell  said,  looking  with  some 
admiration  and  much  kindness  at  the  pas 
sionate  distress  on  Betty's  face,  "but  the  ser 
vice  of  the  king's  grace  should  be  nearer  your 
heart  than  this  young  nobleman." 

"My  lord,"  said  Betty  bravely,  her  face 
flushed  and  her  eyes  shining,  "you  have  been 
misled  by  circumstances;  you  do  Lord  Raby 
an  injustice.  I  know  that  he  is  guiltless;  I 
pledge  my  faith  upon  it ! " 

"I  doubt  not  your  faith  in  him,  my  mis 
tress,"  Cromwell  answered  dryly,  "but,  unhap 
pily,  he  gave  me  the  packet  which  revealed  the 
most  damnable  plot  that  it  hath  been  my 
misfortune  to  behold." 

"  Would  he  have  given  it,  my  lord,  had  he 
been  guilty?"  exclaimed  Raby's  defender, 
valiantly;  "surely  that  alone  declares  his 
innocence." 

My  lord  privy  seal  shook  his  head. 


LOVE  AT  THE    TRAITOR'S  GATE         269 

"'Twas  but  a  mistake,"  he  said;  "doubtless 
he  meant  to  give  me  another.  What  was  it 
you  said  of  papers,  Carew?" 

"  I  had  intrusted  some  documents  full  of 
reports  of  matters  in  Devon,  which  you  had 
requested,  to  Lord  Raby's  keeping,"  Sir  Wil 
liam  answered;  "he  was  to  deliver  them  to 
you,  but  I  fear  they  went  astray." 

Cromwell  looked  thoughtfully  from  the 
window. 

" 'T  is  strange,"  he  said;  "there  were  no 
such  matters  on  his  person.  If  I  told  you  what 
he  bore,  't  would  amaze  you.  I  fear  that  there 
is  no  clear  excuse;  though,  in  the  interest  of 
this  young  lady,  I  would  rejoice  could  one  be 
found." 

"My  lord,  it  shall  be!"  said  Betty,  firmly. 
"  I  pray  you  only  give  me  time ;  let  me  see  my 
Lord  Raby  in  the  Tower,  and  I  will  unravel 
this  mystery." 

Cromwell  glanced  from  her  impassioned  face 
to  Sir  William's.  Woman's  devotion  was  an 
old  story  to  him,  from  the  faithful  love  of 
Margaret  Roper  to  the  loyalty  of  Mary  Wyatt. 
There  was  something  in  the  spectacle  that 
depressed  him. 

"The  charge  against  Raby  is  of  the  most 
serious  nature,  mistress,"  he  said,  "but  I  will 


give  him  all  the  time  I  can,  albeit  the  king's 

:e  must  r.::  surer  there:r:m.      X:r  will  I 

refose  to  let  you  carry  him  what  comfort  you 

may,  but  't  is  a  sorry  errand  for  one  so  young, 

sc  beautiful,  in.  i  so  bnive.      I  wish  your  heart 

"  ere   '::. ~  re   :.:."  "..'.'  :: .:,;  -:- ... 
"My  lord."    said    Betty,  gravely,    "love   is 

r.  ~  i .". .  ~.~.  _  "• ' "  ~~. ".  ~.  i .  ~.~  ~.".\"'   r.  r  t  j  viLr  n~.  i  si "  rt  u  r. » . 

rr:r.-.".-e'.l  .rive  her  in  e^rnes:  l:-:k.  I:  miy 
be  t'r.i:  his  :wr.  :h:.:_:h:5  -.ver.:  bi:k  ::  the 
dvin^  Wclsev.  ir.:i  he  kr.e-.-  :hi:  he  hid  r.:: 


^  ;rei:er  ha'rir.ess  in  the  Fiwer  thin 
5ime  true  men  wh:  _:  free.  Cire-.v.  I  -.vill 
give  a  warrant  for  you  and  this  brave  wench 

t?  visit  the  rrisrner,  2nd  I  s^eik  s:  :th  "."her.  I 


As    ':.z    stxkt.    he    v.-r:te    a    firmil 
iiiresserl    t:    tne    Liv'Jtenint    ::    tne    . 
admitting   5:r  William    and  his  niece  to  visit 
a  stite  prisoner.     He  handed  it  to  Betty. 

"There,  mistress.'  he  5.2.  id,  "I  hii  n:t  the 
heart  to  refuse  thee  ;  "  and  then,  after  another 
look  at  her,  "I  know  that  face  surely;  thou 


LOVE  AT  THE    TRAITORS  GATE         2/1 

"Tis  the  wench  you  sent  t:  Kimbolton, 
my  lord, "  Carew  said,  "  and  lately  she  attended 
Queen  Anne  Boleyn." 

Cromwell  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  shading 

his  face  with  his  hand. 

I  rr.ear.t  :::•:  to  rive  the  v.tr.ch  two  such 
sal  artxi-tr-er.ts/'  he  said  rravely.  "I  i: 
r.:t  care  ::  think  ::  the  71;:  in  either  rise. 
Happily.  :he  kinr  is  v.--;-i".  n-.irrie^  s.r.i  if  :  .:. 
be  but  a  boy ! " 

"Ay,"  asser.-.ei  Carew,  heartily,  "'tis  the 
v.-:sh  c:  aii  :rue  Z"ri:sh~e"." 

"Sir,"  said  Cromwell,  solemnly.  "God  only 
knows  what  it  would  mean  to  this  realm.  Par 
liament  hath  happily  placed  the  crown  at  the 
disposal  of  the  king's  grace,  but  to  have  the 
succession  established  would  mean  England's 
salvation:  and  all  these  conspiracies  which 
bring  us  such  miser}*  would  be  harmless  as  a 


I  h :  - 
ettv's 


"This  man  will  go  with  you,"  he  said  to 
Sir  William,  "and  will  secure  you  immediate 

a:irr.i::a:::e  a:  the  Tower:" 

Carew    thanked    him    heartily,    although   he 

half    5V,sre;;7~    the    atter.dar.:    cf    rein-  a  sry. 


2/2  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

but  he  had  no  choice  but  to  accept  him.  After 
a  few  more  words,  Cromwell  dismissed  them 
and  they  set  out  without  delay  for  the  Tower. 
Sir  William  was  not  altogether  pleased  at 
being  pushed  forward  upon  the  errand,  but  he 
was  too  kind-hearted  to  blame  his  niece,  who 
was  so  deeply  distressed  already.  So  he  made 
the  best  of  an  unpleasant  business  and  walked 
briskly  to  the  wharf,  where  Cromwell's  servant 
obtained  a  wherry  with  a  readiness  that  increased 
Sir  William's  uneasiness.  However,  it  seemed 
but  an  ordinary  river  craft,  manned  by  four 
stout  oarsmen,  who  haggled,  as  usual,  over  the 
fare.  But  Carew  was  so  liberally  inclined  that 
in  a  few  moments  the  bargain  was  completed 
and  the  three  set  out  on  their  voyage.  Betty's 
face  was  muffled,  and  she  sat  quietly  by  her 
uncle  as  the  boat  travelled  swiftly  over  the 
waters.  They  crossed  that  part  of  the  river 
which  was  most  thickly  crowded  with  shipping, 
but  the  young  girl  had  no  eyes  save  for  the  low 
dark  walls  of  the  Tower,  which  presently  came 
in  sight.  She  shuddered  when  the  boatmen, 
obeying  the  directions  of  Cromwell's  servant, 
turned  under  the  dusky  bastion  to  the  Traitor's 
Gate.  The  tide  was  rising  and  bore  the 
wherry  under  the  low  arch  to  the  stone  steps, 
where  the  water  lapped  gently  as  it  rose. 


LOVE  AT  THE    TRAITOR'S  GATE         273 

Above  them  the  arch  was  closed  by  a  wicket  of 
heavy  wooden  cross-bars,  and  behind  this  rose 
the  causeway  leading  to  the  prison.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  wicket  could  be  seen  the 
sentries  on  guard.  This  was  the  view  before 
them ;  behind,  looking  back  through  the  arch, 
was  the  sunshine  on  the  river,  the  gay  life  of 
the  world.  Here,  but  a  short  while  before, 
had  entered  More  and  Fisher,  the  Charterhouse 
monks,  and  the  unhappy  Queen  of  England  — 
a  strange  company ! 

Sir  William  and  Mistress  Betty  alighted  on 
the  stone  steps,  and  the  wicket  was  promptly 
opened  at  the  warrant  of  the  privy  seal,  which 
also  ensured  the  visitors  a  respectful  welcome. 
Without  more  delay  than  naturally  accompanied 
the  formalities  of  a  military  prison,  they  were 
shown  into  the  presence  of  Sir  William  King 
ston,  who  received  Carew  with  every  mark  of 
kindness,  as  an  old  acquaintance. 

"I  am  well  pleased  to  see  you,"  he  said, 
"and  better  pleased  that  you  come  not  as  a 
permanent  guest." 

"God  forbid!"  said  Sir  William  Carew, 
bluntly;  "but  I  come  to  see  one  of  your 
guests,  Kingston;  my  friend,  Simon  Raby. " 

The  officer's  face  became  grave  at  once. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  his  case,"  he  said;  "he  was 
18 


2/4  THE  HOUSE    OF   THE    VIZARD 

the  last  I  looked  for.  He  will  be  glad  to 
welcome  you,  for  he  takes  not  kindly  to 
confinement." 

As  he  spoke,  he  led  the  way  to  the  rooms 
near  the  chapel,  and  having  a  warder  with  him, 
soon  caused  a  door  to  be  unbolted  and  signed 
to  Carew  to  enter. 

"You  have  the  privy  seal's  warrant,"  he 
said,  "and  yonder  you  will  find  the  prisoner." 

After  an  instant's  hesitation,  Sir  William 
pushed  his  niece  forward  and  then  followed  her 
across  the  threshold.  Kingston,  closing  the 
door,  left  them  alone  with  the  imprisoned 
nobleman.  It  was  a  low,  dark  room,  so  insuffi 
ciently  lighted  that  at  first  they  could  not 
plainly  see  Lord  Raby's  face  as  he  rose  at 
their  entrance.  A  small  fire  took  off  a  little  of 
the  chill  of  the  place,  but  the  atmosphere  was 
unwholesomely  damp.  The  unwonted  captiv 
ity  and  the  anxiety  had  driven  all  the  color 
from  the  prisoner's  cheeks,  and  his  expression 
\vas  stern  and  sad.  For  an  instant  he  did 
not  recognize  Carew,  and  then  he  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  joy. 

"  This  is  kind  of  you  indeed  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
advancing,  and  as  he  did  so,  his  eyes  lighted 
on  the  cloaked  figure  beside  Sir  William.  In 
an  instant  he  recognized  her,  and  regardless  of 


LOl'E  AT  THE    TRAITOR'S   GATE          275 

her  uncle,  he  sprang  forward  and  caught  her  in 

his  arms. 

Mistress  Betty's  high  spirit  would  at  other 

times  have  resisted  her  lover's  fashion  of  tak 
ing  possession  of  her,  but  his  situation  made  a 
sad  difference,  and  she  clung  to  him  a  moment, 
tears  shining  in  her  eyes,  while  he  caressed 
her  and  blessed  her  for  coming.  It  was  Carew 
who  interrupted  this  little  drama. 

"Come,  come,"  he  said  with  gruff  kindness, 
"our  time  is  short;  and  if  we  are  to  serve  you, 
we  must  inquire  into  your  case." 

""Pis  so,"  said  Betty,  withdrawing  from 
Raby's  embrace;  "you  must  tell  us  all." 

Her  lover  drew  forward  the  only  two  chairs 
the  room  afforded  for  his  guests,  and  seating 
himself  on  a  low  stool  at  her  feet,  listened 
patiently  to  Sir  William's  harangue. 

"My  Lord  Raby,"  he  said  gravely,  "but 
yesterday  we  received  the  tidings  of  your 
arrest,  and  came  post  haste  to  London  to  my 
lord  privy  seal  to  learn  what  we  could  of  the 
matter.  Xor  can  I  say  that  we  were  comforted 
thereby;  the  information  is  so  strange  that  it 
perplexeth  me  marvellously.  \Ye  were  granted 
permit  to  come  to  the  Tower  by  Cromwell,  and 
here  we  be,  but  how  we  may  serve  you  is  not 
so  plain  to  me.  Doubtless,  though,  you  can 


2/6  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

make  some  clean  statement  of  the  matter, 
albeit  it  seems  so  bewildering  to  others." 

Sir  William's  frame  of  mind  was  not  easily 
mistaken  and  Raby's  cheek  flushed  at  the 
doubt  implied,  even  though  he  saw  only  faith 
and  trust  in  the  eyes  of  Betty  Carew. 

"Unhappily,  sir,"  he  said  stiffly,  "I  can 
make  no  explanation;  could  I  do  so,  doubtless 
I  should  not  be  in  the  Tower." 

Carew  bent  his  brows.  "  My  lord  privy  seal 
tells  me  that  you  were  chiefly  condemned  by 
the  packet  you  gave  him,"  he  said  slowly; 
"  therefore  it  would  seem  that  you  must  hold 
some  key  to  the  matter.  What  was  this  packet  ? 
Wherefore  did  you  give  it  to  Cromwell  ?  " 

"The  packet  was  yours,  Sir  William,"  Raby 
replied  sharply,  "therefore  't  is  you  who  should 
unfold  the  story." 

Carew's  face  flushed  red  with    indignation. 

"My  Lord  Raby,"  he  said  coldly,  "that  is  a 
child's  tale,  but  not  for  the  ears  of  men.  My 
papers  were  innocent  of  any  offence  to  king  or 
council ;  they  pertained  entirely  to  affairs  in 
Devon,  and  were  writ  at  Cromwell's  request." 

"Sir,"  replied  the  prisoner,  sternly,  "it  hath 
been  a  mystery  to  me,  and,  albeit  I  would  not 
have  spoken  of  it,  for  fear  of  offence  to  you, 
now  I  will  even  speak  my  mind.  The  packet 


LOVE   AT  THE    TRAITOR'S   GATE         277 

that  you  gave  me  was  cherished  with  care,  and 
when  I  was  apprehended,  was  yet  in  the  breast 
of  my  doublet.  My  lord  privy  seal  had  re 
ceived  me  kindly,  and  used  me  with  the  justice 
I  had  a  right  to  expect.  Being  willing  to 
serve  you,  even  in  my  own  misfortune,  I  handed 
your  packet  to  him.  Scarce  had  he  opened  it 
before  his  face  changed,  and  after  reading  half 
its  contents,  he  sent  me  to  the  Tower.  Had  I 
been  minded  to  think  ill  of  you,  Sir  William, 
surely  I  had  cause  enough,  but  I  strove  to 
judge  the  matter  with  charity.  In  return,  you 
cast  suspicion  on  my  motives  and  charge  me 
with  falsehood  in  regard  to  this  same  evil 
packet.  Sir,  it  tries  my  patience  to  its 
limit." 

" 'T  is  sheer  nonsense  to  lay  the  matter  to 
my  papers,"  retorted  Carew,  irritably;  "know 
I  not  what  was  writ  there  ?  Am  I  a  fool  ?  If 
all  your  conduct  was  as  innocent,  there  is  little 
doubt  you  would  be  a  freeman. " 

"I  am  a  prisoner,"  Raby  replied  proudly, 
"and  mayhap  it  pleasures  you  to  cast  asper 
sions  on  a  man  who  may  not  defend  himself, 
but  't  is  unworthy  of  you." 

At  this,  Betty  interfered. 

"  I  pray  you  both  to  forbear,"  she  said,  look 
ing  from  one  face  to  the  other  imploringly; 


2/8  THE   HOUSE    OF  THE    WIZARD 

"surely  there  is  some  terrible  mistake,  and  do 
not  make  it  worse  by  a  quarrel." 

Raby,  seeing  her  distress,  pressed  her  hand 
affectionately. 

"Dear  heart,"  he  said,  "I  would  not  quarrel 
with  thy  uncle,  bat  no  man  can  endure  such 
insinuations  with  patience.  I  am  innocent, 
and  I  have  no  such  meek  spirit  that  I  love  to 
be  suspected  by  my  friends." 

"I  am  an  old  man,  my  lord,"  said  Carevv, 
impatiently,  "and  I  am  not  over-smooth 
tongued;  I  have  no  wish  to  offend  your  nice 
feelings,  but  I  see  a  plain  matter  and  you  give 
me  a  foolish  excuse.  My  packet !  Why,  Lord 
Raby,  I  would  have  sent  this  child  Betty  with 
it  and  taken  no  thought." 

"  Sir,  I  never  accused  you  of  malice,"  Simon 
replied  more  calmly,  "but  I  had  the  packet 
of  you,  I  gave  it  to  Cromwell,  and  I  am 
here." 

"Tush!"  exclaimed  Sir  William,  testily, 
"am  I  a  fool?  Do  I  look  a  dullard?  Can  you 
think  to  pass  this  dream  off  on  a  sane  man? 
Raby,  it  was  not  my  packet ! " 

"Sir!"  exclaimed  the  younger  man,  spring 
ing  to  his  feet,  "do  you  accuse  me  of  false 
hood  ?  " 

Mistress    Betty  rose  and    ran  to  her  uncle, 


LOVE  AT   THE    TRAITOR'S  GATE         279 

who  was  standing,  his  strong  face  working 
with  anger. 

"Uncle,"  she  said,  pushing  him  toward  the 
door,  her  rosy  palms  pressed  against  his  broad 
breast,  and  using  all  her  young  strength, 
"  go  —  go  to  the  door  and  wait  for  me.  I  would 
speak  with  him.  You  will  only  quarrel.  Hush  ! 
hush  !  "  she  added,  as  she  saw  the  angry  words 
trembling  on  Sir  William's  lips;  "he  is  a 
prisoner;  'tis  unworthy  of  you." 

Sir  William  looked  at  the  beautiful  young 
face  so  close  to  his,  and  his  heart  relented. 

"Thou  art  a  witch,  Betty,"  he  said;  "have 
thy  will,  but  make  the  man  talk  sense  to 
thee." 

She  had  pushed  him  to  the  door,  and  would 
have  thrust  him  out  if  the  warder  had  not  fas 
tened  it  from  without.  Having  disposed  of 
one,  she  ran  back  to  the  other  disputant,  who 
stood  leaning  on  his  chair  with  a  gloomy  face. 

"Have  you  also  so  poor  an  opinion  of  me?  " 
he  asked,  looking  searchingly  at  the  fair  face. 

"Would  I  be  here?"  she  answered  simply. 
"  Ah,  my  lord,  a  woman  comes  not  lightly  to 
such  a  place! " 

"  Forgive  me ! "  he  exclaimed,  kissing  her 
hands  passionately;  "Sir  William's  suspicions 
of  me  struck  a  sore  heart.  My  darling,  while 


28O  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

I  have  your  confidence,  no  man  shall  dare  to 
doubt  me." 

"Think,  think!"  she  cried,  pressing  her 
hand  on  his  arm  earnestly;  "how  did  it  hap 
pen  ?  What  can  we  do  to  explain  it  away  ?  " 

Lord  Raby  shook  his  head ;  he  knew  too 
well  the  secret  nature  of  such  charges,  the 
slow  course  of  the  law,  the  difficulty  of 
defence. 

"I  know  not,"  he  answered,  looking  fondly 
into  her  troubled  eyes ;  "  we  must  even  let  the 
law  find  its  own  way.  The  attack  on  me  is  of 
a  nature  which  I  can  least  easily  defeat.  I 
trust  most  in  mine  innocence.  Let  it  not  so 
distress  you,  happy  as  it  makes  me  to  feel  you 
care.  Ah,  Betty,  I  had  no  thought  of  such  a 
fate  when  I  asked  you  to  be  my  wife;  will  you 
keep  faith?  Forgive  me;  I  ought  not  to  ask 
you  to  remain  plighted  to  a  prisoner." 

He  was  looking  sadly  at  the  beautiful,  ani 
mated  face.  She  raised  her  head  proudly;  her 
eyes  shone. 

"Sir,"  she  said  sweetly,  "I  will  wed  you  or 
none ! " 

"God  bless  you!"  he  cried,  catching  her  in 
his  arms  and  kissing  her;  "I  have  no  right  to 
ask  such  a  pledge  of  you !  " 

"You  asked  not,"  she  said  archly;  "I  gave 


LOVE  AT  THE    TRAITOR'S   GATE         28 1 

it.  Hark!  there  comes  the  warder;  doubtless 
our  time  is  expired.  I  pray  you  think  better 
of  my  uncle;  I  love  him.  He  is  a  blunt  man 
and  too  free-spoken,  but  he  is  true  as  steel." 

"  Dear  Betty,"  the  prisoner  whispered  fondly, 
"  if  he  were  a  monster,  I  would  try  to  love  him 
for  your  sake." 

"Come,  niece!"  called  Sir  William,  impa 
tiently,  "we  must  be  gone;  the  warder  is 
here." 

"I  must  go,"  Betty  said,  tearing  herself 
away  from  her  lover's  detaining  arms;  "I  must 
go,  but  surely  will  I  work  for  your  deliverance 
with  all  my  might,  and  so  shall  my  uncle. 
Farewell  —  oh,  farewell  till  we  meet  again!" 

Her  eyes  were  shining  now  with  tears,  and 
there  was  a  third  summons  from  Sir  William 
before  she  parted  from  the  prisoner,  and  ran 
from  the  room,  drawing  her  mantle  over  her 
face. 

When  they  sat  again  in  the  boat,  Carew 
turned  to  her  with  a  grim  face,  but  there  was 
a  kind  light  in  his  eyes. 

"My  wench,"  he  said  bluntly,  "thou  art  a 
fool,  but  I  love  thee." 


CHAPTER    XXV 

A    SEASON    OF    WAITING 

LORD  RABY  was  arrested  in  June,  and  at 
the  time  there  seemed  to  be  an  immediate 
prospect  of  a  trial,  and  he  looked  forward  to  it 
with  the  earnest  hope  of  establishing  his  inno 
cence.  But  he  was  doomed  to  a  far  different 
fate;  he  and  his  fellow  prisoner,  the  wizard, 
were  held  while  Cromwell  slowly  unravelled 
the  threads  of  a  great  conspiracy,  which  had 
been  only  partially  indicated  by  the  papers 
in  the  mysterious  packet.  It  was  not  good 
policy  to  seize  at  once  upon  men  whose  names 
figured  in  the  documents,  some  of  them  the 
foremost  in  the  land,  and  the  privy  seal 
played  the  waiting  game,  in  which  he  was 
an  adept.  The  slow  months  of  the  summer 
passed,  and  with  Michaelmas  came  the  ris 
ing  in  the  northern  counties,  ostensibly  pro 
voked  by  the  visitation  of  the  monasteries,  but 
really  the  outgrowth  of  many  grievances,  and 
the  full  fruit  of  a  long-planned  conspiracy. 
The  Pilgrimage  of  Grace  doomed  Lord  Raby 


A   SEASOiV  OF   WAITING  283 

to  a  long  confinement.  With  this  example  of 
the  result  of  treasonable  machinations  before 
his  eyes,  Cromwell  had  less  mercy  for  those 
accused  of  direct  complicity  in  it.  As  the 
rebels,  under  Robert  Aske,  advanced  to  Don- 
caster,  threatening  to  overwhelm  the  king's 
small  army,  the  prisoners  in  the  Tower  were 
subjected  to  closer  confinement.  One  of  the 
avowed  purposes  of  the  insurgents  was  the  fall 
of  Cromwell,  and  it  was  not  probable  that  he 
would  be  lenient  to  such  offenders  as  were 
within  his  reach.  It  was,  however,  an  incon 
venient  time  for  trial  of  the  prisoners,  and  Raby 
and  Sanders  remained  in  suspense. 

Sir  William  Carew  could  not  forgive  the 
doubt  of  his  packet  expressed  by  Simon,  and 
he  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  Betty's  entreaties.  He 
would  not  move  a  finger  in  the  cause.  In  fact, 
the  stout-hearted  gentleman  doubted  Lord 
Raby.  The  evidence  was  so  plain,  as  Crom 
well  unfolded  it,  Simon's  accusation  of  Sir 
William's  documents  so  childish,  the  outbreak 
of  the  insurrection  so  convincing,  that  Carew 
felt  certain  that  the  nobleman  had  been  led 
into  dabbling  with  conspiracy  and  had  com 
mitted  himself  to  the  cause  of  Mary  Tudor  and 
the  papists. 

Mistress  Betty,  indignant  at  her  uncle,  dis- 


284  THE  HOUSE    OF  THE    WIZARD 

tressed  for  Lord  Raby,  and  helpless  to  combat 
the  course  of  events,  remained  with  Lady 
Crabtree.  She  was  unable  even  to  see  the 
king  in  regard  to  the  matter.  Having  been 
one  of  Anne  Boleyn's  maids,  she  was  unac 
ceptable  to  Queen  Jane,  and  her  petitions  to 
the  king  remained  unanswered.  She  lived  in 
seclusion  at  Wildrick,  having  no  heart  for  the 
festivities  at  Hampton  Court,  where  Jane  held 
her  court,  and  being  unwelcome,  she  stayed 
away.  She  could  not  even  obtain  leave  to  sec 
her  lover;  after  the  outbreak  of  the  rebellion, 
she  was  denied  access  to  him;  he  was  kept  in 
solitary  confinement  and  under  rigorous  mili 
tary  discipline.  The  suspense  told  on  the 
young  girl's  nerves,  and  before  winter  was 
over  she  was  pale  and  thin;  but  her  eyes 
gained  in  beauty  as  her  color  faded,  and  her 
striking  face  drew  many  a  glance  of  admira 
tion  when  she  went  upon  her  pilgrimages  to 
Cromwell's  house.  Lady  Crabtree,  though 
sharing  some  of  Carew's  doubts  of  Raby's 
innocence,  had  a  warm  regard  for  him,  and 
was  ever  Mistress  Betty's  companion,  her 
untiring  energy  accomplishing  as  much  as  the 
young  girl's  devotion.  The  two  figures,  so 
strangely  contrasted,  — the  gaunt  old  woman, 
with  her  long  stride,  and  the  graceful  girl,  — 


A   SEASON  OF   WATTING  285 

were  familiar  in  Cromwell's  anterooms,  but 
their  efforts  to  win  better  treatment  or  an  open 
trial  for  Lord  Raby  were  alike  in  vain.  The 
privy  seal,  conscious  that  in  the  magician  he 
had  a  master  traitor,  saw  in  Raby  a  probable 
accomplice.  There  was  one  also,  always  about 
Cromwell,  whose  offices  boded  ill  for  Simon. 
Sir  Barton  Henge  was  active  in  working  for 
the  government,  tireless  upon  the  s-cent  of 
traitors,  a  conspicuously  zealous  loyalist.  Yet, 
though  he  and  the  two  women,  old  Madam  and 
Betty,  travelled  often  upon  the  same  errand, 
they  never  met.  The  sting  of  Mistress  Carew's 
whip  was  still  upon  his  face  although  the  mark 
had  faded,  and  he  watched  his  opportunity 
with  that  feline  patience  which  belongs  to  the 
panther  tribe,  whether  walking  on  two  legs  or 
four,  for  the  kinship  to  the  beast  is  strong  in 
some  human  beings. 

There  were  many  anxious  hearts  in  England 
through  that  long  year  of  trouble,  and  the 
enemies  of  the  king  rejoiced.  On  Christmas 
Eve,  at  the  great  mass  at  St.  Peter's,  the  dark 
ness  of  the  church  was  illumined  by  a  thousand 
tapers,  while  the  marvellous  cap  and  sword 
were  laid  upon  the  altar,  consecrated  for  James 
of  Scotland  to  unite  the  enemies  of  the  faith. 
And  in  Flanders,  Cardinal  Pole  looked  eagerly 


286  THE  HOUSE    OF  THE    WIZARD 

for  the  opportunity  to  overthrow  Henry  VIII., 
and  for  the  return  of  the  supremacy  of  Rome. 
Across  the  Channel,  plot  and  counter-plot  were 
hatched,  took  their  course,  and  died  fruitless; 
while  in  England,  the  one  man  with  an  iron 
will,  the  privy  seal,  held  on  his  even  course, 
though  the  waves  of  popular  fury,  beating  on 
the  ship  of  state,  threatened  to  overwhelm  the 
pilot.  Norfolk,  whose  heart  was  doubtless 
more  with  the  rebels  than  with  the  king,  was 
driven  against  them.  The  unhappy  Northum 
berland  died  faithful  to  Henry,  although  the 
fate  of  Anne  Boleyn  had  prostrated  him.  The 
great  rebellion  spent  itself;  one  after  another 
of  its  leaders  were  brought  to  the  Tower. 
The  unfortunate  Darcy  died,  charging  it  all  on 
Cromwell,  and  at  last,  in  July,  Robert  Aske 
suffered  a  felon's  death.  The  Pilgrimage  of 
Grace  was  over;  it  had  ended  in  a  futile  loss 
of  life  to  the  cause  of  the  old  religion.  "  Twice 
the  children  of  Israel  went  up  against  Benja 
min,"  wrote  Cardinal  Pole,  "and  twice  they 
were  put  to  confusion." 

In  the  midst  of  trials  and  executions,  Raby 
yet  lingered  in  the  Tower  untried.  Either 
overlooked  in  the  great  pressure  of  trouble,  or 
held  for  stronger  proof,  he  and  the  wizard 
languished,  each  in  solitary  confinement.  The 


A   SEASON  OF   WAITING  287 

king's  officers  had  taken  possession  of  the 
strange  house  on  the  Thames  and  searched  it, 
finding  many  curious  contrivances  for  the 
execution  of  the  mummeries  which  had  con 
fused  the  imagination  of  the  magician's  clients. 
Yet,  so  exuberant  was  the  superstition  of  the 
times,  that  the  exposure  of  paltry  methods 
of  deceit  failed  to  destroy  the  dread  of  the 
small  man  who  had  held  such  sway  there. 
Even  the  royal  officers  shrank  from  their  duty, 
and  no  one  occupied  the  house;  the  official 
seal  was  affixed  to  the  doors  and  it  remained 
empty.  The  shutters,  taken  down  to  admit 
the  light  for  the  search,  remained  so,  and  the 
windows  blinked  in  the  afternoon  sun  like  evil 
eyes  suddenly  unveiled.  No  man  ventured 
near  it  after  sundown,  and  many  who  passed 
it,  even  at  high  noon,  made  the  sign  of  the 
cross.  A  baleful  influence  seemed  to  issue 
from  it;  the  vine  that  tried  to  climb  up  the 
door-post  hung  blasted  in  midsummer,  and 
the  grass  did  not  grow,  although  no  footsteps 
wore  the  ground  about  it.  There  was  not  an 
old  wife  in  the  neighborhood  who  had  not  a 
tale  of  how  the  wizard  visited  it  every  night, 
and  how  the  smoke  came  from  the  chimney  of 
his  laboratory  at  the  very  hour  when  he  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  brewing  the  devil's  tea. 


288  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

Summer  passed ;  Michaelmas  came  and  went ; 
all  England  waited  in  hope  and  fear  for  news 
of  the  birth  of  an  heir  to  the  throne,  and  on 
the  twelfth  of  October,  the  vigil  of  Saint 
Edward's  day,  the  bells  rang  out  in  wild  peals 
of  joy,  the  bonfires  blazed  from  Land's  End 
to  the  Tweed,  the  guns  were  fired.  A  prince 
was  born;  the  hope  of  England  lived. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

A  PRINCE'S  BAPTISM 

IT  was  the  hour  appointed  for  the  prince's 
baptism.  It  was  night  at  Hampton  Court; 
the  king's  equerries  ran  to  and  fro,  the  ladies 
of  the  queen  were  crowding  the  anterooms  of 
the  royal  chamber.  They  had  made  elaborate 
toilets  for  the  great  occasion,  and  farthingales 
of  satin  and  brocade  spread  wide  on  every 
hand ;  and  more  than  one  slender  waist  was 
girdled  with  costly  pearls,  while  the  great 
headdresses  loomed  up  above  fair  faces,  flushed 
and  agitated  with  the  haste  and  the  unusual 
presence  of  the  king;  for  Henry  sat  beside  the 
state  couch  on  which  lay  the  young  mother  of 
England's  future  king.  Pages  quarrelled  over 
comfits  on  the  staircases;  gentlemen-in-waiting 
ran  against  each  other  in  their  eagerness  to 
excel  in  service  at  that  hour;  the  doctors  and 
nurses  forgot  the  queen  in  their  zeal  for  the 
prince.  The  heralds,  armed  with  silver 
trumpets,  stood  waiting  to  proclaim  the  glad 
event;  the  sponsors  were  come,  laden  with 
19 


2QO  THE  HOUSE    OF  THE    WIZARD 

gifts,  the  Archbishop  Cranmer,  the  Princess 
Mary,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  —  a  strange  com 
pany.  My  lord  of  Canterbury's  spoons  and 
Mary  Tudor's  golden  cup  stood  side  by  side; 
the  day  was  not  yet  ripe  when  she  would  sign 
the  warrant  to  send  the  archbishop  to  the 
flames  of  martyrdom. 

Into  this  scene  of  confusion  came  my  Lady 
Crabtree  and  Mistress  Betty  Carew.  It  was 
an  hour  when  all  guests  were  welcome,  and 
the  opportunity  to  reach  the  royal  presence 
was  too  valuable  to  be  lost.  Betty  came  with 
a  secret  hope;  she  did  not  speak  of  it  even  to 
her  companion,  but  it  was  in  her  heart.  She 
had  arrayed  herself  with  more  than  usual  care, 
and  she  looked  like  a  stately  white  rose  as  she 
stood  in  the  chapel  waiting  for  the  entrance  of 
the  great  procession.  Her  gown  was  of  pure 
white  brocade,  and  on  her  head  was  the  five- 
pointed  hood  of  white  velvet,  such  as  Anne 
Boleyn  had  often  worn;  around  her  throat  was 
a  single  string  of  pearls.  Months  of  anxiety 
had  stolen  the  color  from  her  cheeks,  but  her 
brown  eyes  were  larger  and  more  lustrous,  and 
there  was  a  purpose,  a  resolution  in  her  face 
which  made  it  beautiful  in  its  intense  anima 
tion.  Old  Madam,  in  a  singularly  ugly  gar 
ment  of  copper- colored  satin  with  a  marvellous 


A   PRINCE'S  BAPTISM  29 1 

headdress  of  black  velvet,  made  a  strange  foil 
for  the  beauty,  and  many  a  curious  glance  was 
cast  in  their  direction  as  they  stood  aside, 
watching,  but  taking  no  part  in  the  festivities. 
The  torches  flared  in  the  royal  chapel,  the 
light  shining  red  on  the  altar  and  on  the  solid 
silver  font,  which  was  guarded  by  four  gentle 
men,  one  of  these  Sir  Francis  Bryan,  the 
cousin  of  Anne  Boleyn.  These  four  grand 
personages  wore  aprons,  and  towels  were  tied 
around  their  necks.  There  were  Bryan,  Sir 
John  Russel,  Sir  Nicholas  Carew,  the  master 
of  horse,  who  was  to  lose  his  head  in  the  mat 
ter  of  the  Marquis  of  Exeter,  and  Sir  Anthony 
Browne.  The  silver  trumpets  blew  in  the 
very  chamber  where  Jane  Seymour  lay,  and  the 
procession  came  up  between  the  torches  to 
the  silver  font.  There  was  the  glitter  of  gold, 
the  flash  of  jewels,  the  sheen  of  satin.  Noble 
lords,  great  ladies,  the  peers  of  England 
walked  in  solemn  company.  The  smoke  from 
the  many  torches  floated  up  to  the  roof  and 
hung  like  a  veil;  below,  the  blaze  of  splendor 
dazzled  the  eye.  Under  a  glittering  canopy 
came  the  prince  of  England,  borne  in  the  arms 
of  the  Marchioness  of  Exeter,  and  behind 
walked  the  humble  Mother  Jack,  the  prince's 
nurse.  The  Princess  Mary  and  the  Duke  of 


2Q2  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

Norfolk,  Seymour,  the  queen's  brother,  bear 
ing  in  his  arms  the  little  Princess  Elizabeth, 
who  held  in  her  hands  a  chrisom,  her  gift  to 
her  infant  brother.  The  father  of  Anne  Boleyn, 
the  Earl  of  Wiltshire,  came  with  a  towel  about 
his  neck  and  bearing  a  taper  of  virgin  wax. 
Behind  these,  the  lords  and  ladies  of  the 
court ;  a  long  and  goodly  procession,  sweeping 
into  the  chapel  and  filling  it  with  a  gorgeous 
display  of  costly  silks  and  jewels.  And  the 
music  of  the  silver  trumpets  filled  the  air, 
while  on  every  side  beauty  and  magnificence 
vied  with  each  other,  and  the  blaze  of  many 
torches  made  the  chapel  light  as  day.  The 
solemn  service  over,  his  serene  highness, 
Prince  Edward,  Duke  of  Cornwall  and  Earl  of 
Chester,  was  proclaimed  by  Garter,  and  the 
glittering  procession  took  its  way  back  to  the 
chamber  of  the  queen,  where  King  Henry  had 
remained  all  the  while.  It  was  midnight 
when,  with  the  music  of  many  trumpets,  the 
throng  came  in  to  the  great  apartment  where 
the  pale-faced  queen  lay  on  a  state  bed  with  a 
canopy  above  it,  resplendent  with  cloth  of  gold. 
There  was  the  rustle  of  many  sweeping  skirts, 
the  jingle  of  swords  and  chains,  the  flare  of 
many  lights,  and  all  the  room  full  of  faces, 
looking  eagerly  toward  the  royal  couch.  The 


A   PRINCE'S  BAPTISM  293 

Marchioness  of  Exeter  bore  the  little  prince  to 
receive  his  mother's  blessing;  the  king  stood 
up,  looking  on,  boisterous  in  his  joy.  Behind 
him  were  the  pale,  gentle  face  of  Cranmer, 
the  stalwart  form  of  Norfolk,  the  sad  and  cold- 
looking  Princess  Mary,  the  daughter  of  Cathe 
rine  of  Arragon,  and  the  little  golden-haired 
Elizabeth,  the  child  of  such  bright  hopes,  and 
now  stamped  with  the  mark  of  illegitimacy 
and  shadowed  by  the  fearful  death  of  Anne 
Boleyn.  The  little  princess,  though  only  four 
years  old,  had  a  train  borne  by  Lady  Herbert 
as  she  walked  into  the  room.  The  king  had 
increased  in  corpulence,  and  the  ulcers  on  his 
legs  made  his  movements  painful,  but  he  was 
very  merry. 

"Sweetheart,"  he  said  to  the  queen  as  she 
kissed  the  child,  after  giving  it  her  blessing, 
"the  boy  hath  thine  eyes  and  will  have  thy 
beauty." 

"My  lord,"  replied  Jane,  meekly,  "I  would 
rather  that  he  looked  like  your  grace." 

"Nay,"  said  the  king,  laughing,  "I  am  will 
ing  that  my  successor  should  excel  me  in 
looks.  What  say  you,  my  lords  and  ladies,  is 
he  not  a  goodly  boy  ?  " 

There  was  a  chorus  of  assent ;  it  would  have 
been  a  strange  time  to  criticise  the  Prince  of 


294  THE   HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

England.  Only  one  or  two  of  the  older 
women  looked  anxiously  at  the  pale  face  and 
shining  eyes  of  the  queen,  and  nodded  their 
heads  at  each  other.  Henry,  overflowing  with 
joy  at  the  birth  of  a  boy,  moved  about  among 
the  nobles  present,  talking  freely  to  all,  and 
with  little  thought  of  the  nervous  strain  upon 
the  young  mother.  His  face  softened  by  his 
happiness  and  his  rich  dress  becoming  his 
large  and  stately  figure,  the  king  recalled  to 
many  the  handsome  presence  of  his  earlier 
manhood.  He  came  down  the  long  room, 
speaking  familiarly  and  kindly  to  all  whom  he 
recognized,  and  showing  his  wonderful  memory 
for  small  matters  by  his  words  to  each  one. 

"Ah,  John,"  he  said  to  one  tall  nobleman, 
"how  is  that  lame  boy  of  yours?  I  will  send 
my  physician  to  look  at  his  leg;  the  prince 
must  have  sound  subjects." 

Without  waiting  for  thanks,  he  turned  to 
another. 

"  Lady  Harriet,  you  and  I  grow  old ;  we  are 
both  limping;  but  we  must  mend  our  paces 
now."  And  to  a  younger  matron,  "Alice,  I 
hear  thy  baby  is  a  beauty;  we  must  see  if  it 
can  match  mine." 

A  little  farther  on,  he  stopped  beside  a 
young  couple  who  were  standing  together.  "  I 


A   PRINCE'S  BAPTISM  295 

have  heard  of  your  parents'  opposition,"  he 
said  with  boisterous  kindness;  "I  will  see  to 
it  that  it  is  ended ;  we  must  have  a  merry  wed 
ding  before  Christmas.  Trouble  ceased  at  this 
court  when  the  prince  was  born ! " 

In  his  genial  progress  he  had  reached  the 
end  of  the  room  where  stood  Betty  Carew. 
Her  tall,  white  figure  and  beautiful,  sad  face 
arrested  his  attention  at  once.  It  may  be  that 
he  remembered  her  as  an  attendant  of  Queen 
Anne,  for  his  own  face  clouded  slightly  and  he 
looked  at  her  with  manifest  interest.  It  was 
the  opportunity  for  which  Betty  had  waited, 
and  she  advanced  with  a  beating  heart.  Her 
great  beauty  and  something  in  her  manner 
made  a  little  stir  as  she  came  forward.  A 
page  was  holding  a  torch  near  where  the  king 
stood,  and  the  boy,  attracted  by  her  beauty, 
held  his  light  so  that  the  full  radiance  fell  on 
her  figure,  outlining  it  in  the  white  glistening 
folds  of  satin  draperies  and  casting  a  wonder 
ful  glow  in  her  eyes.  She  came  forward  with 
perfect  dignity,  pausing  a  little  way  from  the 
king,  her  beauty  causing  a  whisper  of  amaze 
ment  to  run  around  the  circle.  Henry,  who 
was  ever  quick  to  recognize  loveliness  in 
woman,  looked  at  her  with  evident  admiration. 

"'Tis  Mistress  Carew,  and  I  mistake  not," 


296  THE   HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

he  said  graciously.     "What  will  you  ask   of 
me  to-night  ?  " 

"Your  grace,"  she  replied  gently,  "I  have 
a  petition,  albeit  a  strange  one  for  so  joyous 
an  occasion,  yet  I  pray  you  hear  it  in  the  name 
of  Prince  Edward. " 

"  My  girl,  thou  hast  used  an  appeal  to  which 
we  may  not  turn  a  deaf  ear,"  said  Henry;  "say 
on." 

Mistress  Betty  drew  a  long  breath ;  she  was 
summoning  all  her  strength  to  plead  her 
cause. 

"Sire,"  she  said,  "there  is  a  prisoner  in  the 
Tower  wrongfully  charged  with  treason ;  an 
innocent  man  whom  some  enemy  hath  en 
tangled.  I  pray  your  grace  to  hear  his  cause, 
to  end  this  great  suspense.  Long,  long  he 
hath  languished  a  prisoner  without  the  oppor 
tunity  to  establish  his  innocence.  And  he  is 
innocent ! "  she  clasped  her  hands  together 
with  a  passionate  gesture,  "  Simon  Raby  is 
innocent!"  she  cried;  "and  oh,  my  lord  the 
king,  I  pray  you  to  think  of  the  terrible  strain 
of  this  long  suspense  !  " 

"Simon  Raby?"  repeated  the  king;  "once 
my  equerry,  I  think." 

"Ay,  your  grace,"  replied  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  "the  son  of  old  Lord  Raby  of  Sussex; 


A   PRINCE'S  BAPTISM  297 

an   honest    gentleman,    who   died   nearly   two 
years  ago. " 

"An  honest  gentleman;  ay,  I  remember 
him;  he  served  my  father  well,"  said  the  king, 
thoughtfully.  "Cromwell  hath  been  eager 
trapping  his  mice,  but  I  would  not  keep  a  true 
man  in  jail.  Hath  he  not  been  tried,  Mistress 
Carew?"  he  added,  looking  again  at  Betty. 

"Nay,  your  highness,"  she  replied  sadly; 
"he  has  languished  long,  and  with  no  hope, 
nor  have  they  let  his  friends  see  him." 

"How  long  hath  he  been  in  the  Tower?" 
asked  Henry,  gravely. 

"Fourteen  months  and  more,  Sire,"  she 
answered. 

"'Tis  too  long,"  said  the  king,  frowning. 
"  I  have  no  will  to  keep  a  poor  gentleman  with 
out  a  trial;  this  shall  be  looked  into." 

Betty's  heart  beat  high  with  hope,  but  she 
had  yet  a  petition  to  make,  and  Henry  saw  it 
in  her  expression.  Her  beauty,  her  evident 
loyalty  to  the  prisoner  interested  him. 

"Speak,  sweetheart,"  he  said  kindly;  "what 
is  in  thy  mind?  " 

"  I  pray  your  grace  to  give  me  warrant  to 
see  the  wizard,  Zachary  Sanders,  who  is  also 
in  the  Tower,"  she  said;  "they  let  no  man  see 
him,  but  I  know  that  if  he  will,  he  can 


298  THE  HOUSE    OF  THE    WIZARD 

surely  clear  Lord  Raby ;  and  oh,  I  beseech  your 
highness,  to  let  me  plead  with  him!" 

Henry  smiled.  "You  are  not  like  to  plead 
in  vain,  fair  mistress,"  he  said  lightly;  "for 
the  sake  of  this  blessed  night,  your  petitions 
are  both  granted.  Norfolk,  bid  my  lord  privy 
seal  to  give  this  pretty  beggar  a  warrant  to  go 
into  the  Tower.  But  hark  you,  my  wench,  I 
charge  you  not  to  leave  your  heart  behind  you 
there,"  and  with  a  laugh  at  his  own  jest,  the 
king  passed  on,  surrounded  by  an  ever-increas 
ing  throng  of  courtiers  until  the  apartment  of 
the  queen  was  gradually  deserted,  save  by  her 
own  attendants. 

The  first  white  streaks  of  dawn  were  showing 
at  the  eastern  horizon  when  Lady  Crabtree 
and  Betty  left  Hampton  Court,  and  the  mists 
of  night  obscured  the  scene. 

"Thou  didst  have  rare  luck,  my  girl,"  said 
old  Madam,  drawing  her  mantle  closer  in  the 
chill  air;  "and  now  there  is  a  hope  to  end  the 
matter." 

"The  king's  grace  was  kind,"  replied  Betty, 
"and  I  have  good  hope,  for  I  believe  that  now 
they  will  hear  Simon's  cause;  and  if  they  do, 
all  will  be  well." 

"Mayhap  it  will,"  retorted  Lady  Crabtree 
dryly,  unwilling  to  cast  down  the  young  girl's 


A   PRINCE'S  BAPTISM  299 

new-born  hopes ;  "at  least,  Cromwell  shall  do 
more  than  shake  his  head  at  us.  'T  is  well 
that  you  struck  while  the  iron  was  hot  and  the 
king  was  happy ;  for  if  they  keep  up  that  rout, 
they  will  kill  both  mother  and  child.  Mercy 
on  us,  what  a  baptism  !  My  lord  of  Canterbury 
and  Mary  Tudor  walking  together,  and  Nor 
folk,  who  loves  the  papists  with  all  his  heart. 
That  ambitious  prig,  too,  my  Lord  Seymour, 
who  will  rise  on  his  sister's  petticoats.  It 
went  to  my  heart  to  see  Anne  Boleyn's  baby 
decked  out  to  march  behind  this  new  toy ! 
Well-a-day,  't  is  strange!" 

A  little  farther  on,  she  burst  out  laughing; 
a  scornful  laugh,  too,  which  startled  Betty. 

"  What  makes  you  so  merry,  madam  ?  "  she 
asked  quietly. 

"  Saw  you  not  that  fool,  the  Earl  of  Wilt 
shire,"  old  Madam  asked,  "with  a  towel  tied 
around  his  neck,  and  carrying  my  Lord  Cran- 
mer's  silver  pots,  the  christening  present? 
Lord!  why  did  he  not  go  fetch  his  daughter's 
head?  The  drivelling  idiot  would  dance  at 
his  own  funeral,  if  he  could  crook  his  legs, 
with  the  hope  to  please  the  king's  grace.  'T  is 
such  a  courtier  that  upsets  an  honest  stomach. 
Were  I  the  king,  I  'd  send  him  home  with  a 
merry  flogging,  as  an  ass." 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

THE    WIZARD    IN    THE    TOWER 

SUPERSTITION  works  its  own  miracles,  and 
strangely  enough,  even  in  the  Tower  of  London, 
its  spell  took  effect.  The  royal  officers  had 
secured  the  person  of  the  wizard  and  had  suf 
fered  no  harm  from  the  contact.  It  was  true 
that  one  young  man  had  fallen  in  a  fit  at  some 
strange  vision  in  the  wizard's  house,  but  the 
others  were  unscathed.  Yet  the  power  of  the 
little  man's  strange  eyes  and  stranger  manner 
worked  upon  them,  and  no  prisoner  in  the 
Tower  was  better  treated  or  with  more  rever 
ence.  The  warder  locked  him  in  with  shaking 
hands,  his  knees  knocking  together,  and  but 
for  the  sharper  terror  of  the  rope  at  Tyburn,  he 
might  have  failed  to  turn  the  key  upon  his 
captive.  The  sentinels  within  the  Traitor's 
Gate  declared  that  at  midnight  the  small  man 
in  a  russet  cloak  passed  between  them,  not  in 
natural  shape,  but  floating  past  them  like  a 
vapor,  going  through  the  close-barred  wicket 
to  the  river  and  returning  again  at  dawn.  Of 


THE    WIZARD  IN  THE    TOWER  30! 

food,  the  wizard  had  an  abundance;  he  had  but 
to  express  the  wish  for  some  new  viand,  accom 
panying  it  with  a  gruesome  prophecy  in  regard 
to  his  keeper's  future,  and  the  dish  was  immedi 
ately  forthcoming.  They  denied  him  nothing; 
when  other  prisoners  shivered,  he  had  a  fire; 
when  better  men  languished  in  the  dark,  he 
had  twenty  tall  tapers  burning  around  his 
room.  He  was  freely  supplied  with  pen  and 
paper,  and  he  filled  the  sheets  with  cabalistic 
signs  which  froze  the  blood  of  his  attendants. 
One  of  the  bolder  warders  refused  to  tend  his 
fire  for  him;  the  wizard  looked  up  with  a 
strange  face  and  passed  his  hands  before  his 
eyes. 

"Thy  wife  has  a  fit,"  he  said  calmly;  "the 
baby  is  born  dead." 

The  man  hurried  from  the  room,  grumbling 
at  the  prisoner  as  an  evil  croaker,  and  at  the 
door  he  heard  the  news  confirmed.  After  that 
he  almost  grovelled  in  his  anxiety  to  serve  the 
evil  little  man  who  only  laughed  and  mocked 
his  terror.  Nothing  but  a  wholesome  fear  of 
Cromwell's  anger  kept  such  a  prisoner  in  the 
Tower ;  a  thousand  times  he  could  have  escaped, 
but  that,  at  the  last  moment,  the  thought  of 
the  privy  seal  stayed  the  hands  of  his  would-be 
liberators.  Cromwell  could  not  be  trifled  with; 


3O2  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

his  arm  was  long,  his  vengeance  swift,  his 
eye  that  of  a  hawk  looking  for  prey.  Between 
the  two,  the  magician  and  the  king's  minister, 
the  warders  of  the  Tower  lived  as  men  do 
between  the  devil  and  the  deep  sea. 

It  was  the  day  after  Prince  Edward's  great 
christening,  and  the  wizard  sat  in  his  prison 
watching  the  blaze  leap  from  the  logs  piled  in 
his  chimney.  The  wind  was  chill  without,  but 
he  was  warm,  thanks  to  the  terror  of  his 
jailers.  He  sat  on  a  low  stool,  his  elbows  on 
his  knees,  his  chin  in  his  hands,  gazing  at  the 
flames  as  if  he  loved  them ;  the  red  glow  of  the 
fire  flaring  on  his  wizened  face  and  in  his  won 
derful  eyes.  He  was  dressed  in  russet-colored 
damask,  a  cape  of  Flanders  lace  about  his 
neck,  and  on  his  head  a  pointed  scarlet  cap 
with  an  opal  in  the  front,  clasping  the  one  stiff 
feather.  He  wore  velvet  shoes,  scarlet  like 
his  cap,  and  on  his  thin,  long-fingered  hands 
were  some  curious  rings,  all  strangely  wrought 
and  fantastic  in  design.  He  had  but  recently 
stirred  the  fire,  and  the  blaze  leaped  up  the 
chimney  with  a  merry  roar  and  crackle.  So 
intent  was  he  in  his  study  of  it  that  he  never 
turned  his  head  when  the  warder  opened  his 
door  and  admitted  two  closely  muffled  women. 
The  visitors  came  in  a  little  way  and  stopped, 


THE    WIZARD  IN  THE    TOWER  303 

looking  at  him  without  speaking,  while  the 
warder,  after  staring  in  with  wide-mouthed 
curiosity,  retreated  in  fear  of  provoking  the 
wizard's  displeasure.  When  he  had  closed  the 
door,  the  scene  remained  for  some  moments 
unchanged  ;  the  two  women  standing  together, 
evidently  watching  the  magician,  though  their 
mantles  concealed  their  faces,  and  he  still  gaz 
ing  fixedly  at  the  blaze  as  if  he  read  some  story 
in  it.  There  was  no  sound  but  the  sharp 
crackle  of  the  wood,  and  there  was  something 
unpleasantly  awe-inspiring  in  the  stillness  of 
the  gloomy  place,  where  no  light  shone  but  the 
red  one  of  the  flames.  Presently  the  wizard 
broke  the  silence.  He  had  not  shown  by  any 
sign  or  movement  that  he  had  seen  his  visit 
ors,  but  he  addressed  them  now,  though  with 
out  turning  his  head  or  glancing  in  their 
direction. 

"  My  Lady  Crabtree  and  Mistress  Carew, 
you  are  welcome,"  he  said  calmly;  "come  to 
the  fire  and  be  seated." 

Old  Madam  laughed  harshly. 

"  What  is  the  use  to  wear  a  mask  ? "  she 
said;  "the  creature  hath  eyes  in  the  back  of 
his  head  like  a  spider." 

As  she  spoke,  she  drew  nearer  the  fire  and 
seated  herself  on  a  settle  opposite  the  astrolo- 


304  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

ger,  and  Betty  came  over  and  stood  beside  her, 
looking  eagerly  at  the  weird  figure  before 
them. 

"  You  came  from  Hampton  Court,"  remarked 
the  wizard  composedly,  for  the  first  time  look 
ing  at  them  attentively,  "with  the  king's  war 
rant  to  visit  the  Tower  in  the  matter  of  my 
Lord  Raby." 

"We  came  to  see  you,  sir,"  Betty  said  ear 
nestly,  "to  learn  the  truth.  We  are  con 
vinced  that  you  can  clear  him  if  you  will. 
In  common  charity,  I  pray  you,  help  us  un 
tangle  this  conspiracy  against  an  innocent 
man." 

"Ay,  I  know  the  truth,"  retorted  the  magi 
cian;  "'tis  my  business;  but  why  should  I 
make  my  Lord  Raby's  affairs  mine?" 

"  Tush,  Sanders  !  "  exclaimed  Lady  Crabtree, 
who  was  unmoved  by  any  awe  of  him,  "do  not 
play  the  innocent.  We  all  know  that  you  are 
knee-deep  and  elbow-deep  in  this  conspiracy 
and  like  to  hang  at  Tyburn." 

"Nay,  I  will  never  hang,"  replied  the  wizard 
coldly,  fixing  his  large  and  marvellously  radiant 
eyes  upon  her,  "nor  will  the  prince  baptized 
last  night  live  to  manhood." 

"  Pshaw  !  "  said  Lady  Crabtree,  with  a  laugh, 
"  it  takes  no  magician  to  predict  danger  to  the 


THE    WIZARD  IN  THE    TOWER  305 

baby  with  tbe  rumpus  they  are  making  over 
it;  any  old  wife  can  beat  you  there  as  a 
prophet ! " 

The  strong-minded  old  woman  had  thrown 
back  her  wraps  and  sat  by  the  fire,  her  hawk 
like  nose  and  square  chin  sharply  outlined  in 
the  red  light,  and  her  great  frame  contrasting 
strangely  with  the  diminutive  one  of  the 
prisoner.  The  two  natures,  naturally  defiant 
and  antagonistic,  recognized  the  qualities  which 
made  them  so,  and  they  eyed  each  other  in 
mutual  dislike  and  suspicion.  But  Betty 
Carew  had  only  the  one  object  and  hope,  and 
something  in  her  beauty  perhaps  appealed  to 
Sanders,  for  he  treated  her  with  more  consid 
eration  than  usual ;  he  had,  too,  his  own 
reasons  for  aiding  her.  She  came  a  step  nearer 
now  and  stood  looking  at  him ;  her  hood  had 
fallen  back  and  revealed  her  head,  with  its 
black  hair  uncovered,  framing  her  pale  but 
handsome  face ;  her  hands  hung  loosely  clasped 
before  her,  and  the  firelight  played  in  her 
deep  brown  eyes. 

"I  pray  you,"  she  said  eagerly,  "consider 
that  he  who  so  entangled  Raby  by  placing  that 
packet  on  his  person,  —  in  some  marvellous 
manner,  —  he  also  must  have  betrayed  you. 
Your  cause  is  therefore  identical  with  ours. 


306  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

Surely  you  can  think  of  some  one  who  had 
the  means  to  compass  this  —  and  the  will." 

The  wizard  looked  at  her  thoughtfully;  not 
a  change  of  expression  denoted  that  he  felt  any 
interest  in  what  she  said. 

"Lord  Raby  had  a  servant,"  he  replied, 
deliberately  stirring  the  fire;  "he  can  tell  you 
all  you  wish  to  know." 

"We  thought  of  that,"  cried  Betty;  "but  it 
is  judged  impossible  that  so  ignorant  a  man 
could  have  had  access  to  the  papers  which  are 
now  in  the  hands  of  Cromwell." 

"  Nevertheless,  I  tell  you,  find  him,"  returned 
the  wizard,  calmly. 

"  He  hath  been  already  interrogated,"  replied 
Betty,  sadly,  "and  now  we  know  not  where  he 
is  —  since  Lord  Raby  dismissed  him." 

"He  is  in  a  house  in  Cheapside,"  said  the 
astrologer.  "You  may  find  it  easily;  the  door 
is  painted  green  and  hath  a  rat-hole  in  the 
lower  left-hand  corner;  there  are  three  win 
dows  in  the  front  of  the  house,  each  different 
in  size  and  shape.  He  sleeps  in  the  attic." 

"He  will  tell  us  nothing,"  Betty  answered 
in  despair;  "we  have  tried,  and  my  Lord  Raby 
is  sure  he  knows  nothing." 

The  wizard  laughed,  not  mirthfully,  but  as 
if  he  relished  some  grim  joke. 


THE    WIZARD  IN  THE    TOWER  307 

"He  is  in  that  attic,"  he  said  dryly;  "take 
him  and  he  will  tell  you  all." 

"I  tell  you,"  cried  Betty,  with  impatience, 
"he  will  tell  us  nothing." 

"Singe  him,"  retorted  the  wizard,  with  a 
grin;  "my  lord  privy  seal  can  teach  you  how 
to  entreat  a  prisoner  to  speak." 

Betty  recoiled  with  horror,  but  old  Madam 
caught  at  the  idea. 

"The  man  is  right,"  she  remarked  calmly; 
"  't  is  easy  enough  to  screw  out  the  truth. 
But  verily,  Sir  Wizard,  is  there  not  more  to 
tell ? " 

The  little  magician  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  have  told  enough,"  he  said;  "a  woman 
who  is  near  fourscore  should  know  the  rest 
without  telling." 

This  reference  to  Lady  Crabtree's  age 
brought  the  angry  blood  to  her  face;  she  never 
admitted  it  to  any  one,  and  to  find  that  this 
strange  creature  knew  it,  moved  her  to  wrath. 
She  rose  and  gathered  her  mantle  about  her. 

"Come  Betty,"  she  said  sharply,  "we  but 
waste  time  on  this  fool.  Let  us  begone." 

The  wizard  sat  laughing  silently,  his  sinister 
face  lighted  up  with  malicious  enjoyment. 

Betty  lingered  a  moment,  while  Lady  Crab- 
tree  hurried  to  the  door. 


308  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"Is  there  nothing  else?"  she  asked  ear 
nestly;  "no  other  way?" 

"If  you  follow  my  instructions,"  replied  the 
wizard,  "all  will  be  well;  if  not  —  "  He 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

A    SNARE 

MISTRESS  BETTY  left  the  Tower  with  a  heavy 
heart;  she  could  not  believe  in  the  success  of 
the  wizard's  plans,  and  she  had  failed  to  see 
Lord  Raby.  He  was  that  day  carried  before 
the  Council  to  be  examined,  by  order  of  the 
king,  who  had  not  forgotten  Betty's  petition. 
Thus,  while  she  was  thankful  that  the  long 
suspense  was  over,  she  was  disappointed  in 
the  hope  of  seeing  her  lover,  after  the  months 
of  separation.  She  could  but  wait  and  hope, 
in  the  mean  time  making  every  effort  to  estab 
lish  his  innocence.  Her  courage  and  determi 
nation  so  moved  old  Madam  to  admiration 
that  she  lacked  no  aid  from  that  quarter,  and 
fortunately,  for  their  success,  they  found  Sir 
William  Carew  in  London.  He  nad  come  up 
from  Devon  two  days  before  and  was  in  lodg 
ings  on  the  Strand,  engaged  in  transacting 
business  with  the  Council.  He  was  little 
inclined,  at  first,  to  listen  to  their  talk  of 
Lord  Raby,  having  still  his  grievance  in  regard 


310  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

to  his  packet,  but  at  the  mention  of  Simon's 
servant,  he  remembered  his  wager  that  the 
man  was  a  rogue,  and  was  more  willing  to 
undertake  any  matter  that  would  prove  the 
infallibility  of  his  own  judgment.  He  was 
not  free  of  a  superstitious  awe  of  the  wizard, 
and  showed  himself  to  be  quite  ready  to  follow 
his  instructions,  even  without  his  niece's 
entreaties. 

"Let  be,  let  be,"  he  said,  in  answer  to 
Betty's  suggestions;  "I  will  take  this  matter 
in  hand.  I  have  two  stout  knaves  with  me, 
and  they  should  be  enough  to  catch  the  varlet. 
It  shall  be  done  secretly  too,  that  those  who 
employ  him  may  not  take  warning  and  so 
escape  us.  Go  to  your  quarters  with  my  Lady 
Crabtree,  and  I  will  see  that  this  business  is 
executed  in  good  time." 

Betty  was  reluctant  to  leave  the  scene  of 
action;  she  was  eager  for  the  first  gleam  of 
hope  that  might  dawn  with  Shaxter's  revela 
tions,  if  he  made  them. 

"Uncle,  you  will  tell  me  what  he  says?" 
she  asked.  "  I  cannot  endure  this  suspense  so 
long." 

"I  will  send  for  you,"  Sir  William  an 
swered.  "  Your  presence  here  now  is  more 
hindrance  than  help;  but  trust  me,  wench,  I 


A   SNARE  311 

will  tell  you  all  there  is  to  know,  if  indeed 
this  rogue  can  reveal  anything  of  importance." 

Old  Madam  had  been  below  stairs  talking 
with  an  acquaintance  at  the  door,  and  she 
came  up  now  with  a  face  of  importance. 

"There  are  bad  tidings  from  Hampton 
Court,"  she  said;  "the  queen  hath  taken  cold; 
was  ill  last  night,  and  to-day  is  reported  dying. 
Saint  Thomas !  what  luck  the  king  hath  with 
his  wives! " 

"Now  may  Heaven  save  the  prince!"  ex 
claimed  Sir  William,  baring  his  head  rever 
ently;  "the  hope  of  the  realm  is  centered  in 
that  child.  We  have  scarce  had  time  to 
express  our  thanksgiving  for  his  birth,  and 
cruel  indeed  would  be  the  blow  that  took  him 
from  us." 

"Ay,"  retorted  Lady  Crabtree;  "the  papists 
would  have  then  the  merry  stirring  that  they 
have  looked  for  these  long  years,  and  James  of 
Scotland  might  use  the  nightcap  that  the  pope 
sent  him  for  Christmas.  Happily,  the  queen's 
death  need  not  now  mean  the  loss  of  the 
prince;  but  they  do  say  that  it  is  a  sickly 
child,  and  like  to  be,  with  such  a  father." 

"  I  remember  the  days  when  the  king's  grace 
was  the  very  type  of  English  manhood,"  Carew 
remarked  thoughtfully,  "and  as  gallant  a 


312  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

knight  as  ever  wore  harness;  of  goodly  stature 
and  amiable  countenance,  wise  in  council, 
learned  in  philosophy,  and  as  gracious  a  prince 
as  any  man  might  desire." 

"A  wise  man  now,  save  with  women," 
replied  old  Madam  dryly;  "but  carrying  too 
great  a  load  of  flesh  and  with  the  disease 
settled  in  his  legs,  no  longer  like  to  be  a  great 
soldier,  or  to  live  long.  Well,  well,  this  is 
his  third  queen,  and  she  will  not  be  cool  before 
the  Council  will  prefer  suit  to  his  grace  to  take 
another." 

"It  may  be  that  another  woman  will  not 
long  for  such  an  unlucky  place,"  remarked 
Betty,  quietly;  "there  seems  to  be  death  in 
it" 

"Cromwell  can  send  abroad  then,"  said  Lady 
Crabtree;  "he  will  even  get  Master  Friskyball 
to  help  him  find  an  Italian  princess;  but  look 
you,  my  girl,  the  applicants  here  will  be  as 
thick  as  cherries.  Do  you  know  your  sex  so 
little  as  to  think  that  they  will  lose  the  chance 
of  a  crown?  If  a  man  looks  like  a  wild  boar, 
he  will  yet  find  a  woman  to  marry  him;  some 
fool  who  will  imagine  that  his  heart  is  not 
indicated  by  his  snout.  I  tell  you  women  are 
all  fools  once;  more's  the  pity!" 

She  was  putting  on  her  cloak  as  she  spoke, 


A   SNARE  313 

and  having  muffled  it  about  her,  she  gave  some 
parting  instructions  to  Sir  William;  and  then 
taking  Betty,  went  down  the  stairs  to  the  door 
where  her  attendants  waited  her. 

"You  will  go  to  my  lodgings,"  she  said  to 
her  young  companion;  "but  I  have  other  busi 
ness,  and  it  may  be  late  this  night  before  I 
come.  Content  yourself,  however,  with  the 
recollection  that  I  will  keep  Sir  William 
spurred  up  to  the  pitch." 

Reluctantly  enough  Mistress  Betty  resigned 
herself  to  the  wishes  of  her  elders,  and  was 
escorted  to  Lady  Crabtree's  lodgings  by  one  of 
her  attendants.  It  was  dusk  when  she  passed 
through  the  gates,  the  porter  closing  them 
behind  her.  She  crossed  the  little  court,  and 
entering  the  house,  dismissed  her  follower  and 
went  alone  up  the  stairs  to  the  rooms  where 
they  were  lodging.  One  of  old  Madam's 
women  was  there  and  had  made  the  place 
cheerful.  A  fire  burned  on  the  hearth,  the 
tapers  were  lighted,  and  a  supper  was  laid  for 
two  upon  the  table  in  the  center.  It  was  a 
fast  day,  and  there  were  some  salted  eels,  a 
gurnet  and  a  chet  loaf  set  out,  with  a  tankard 
of  ale;  for  my  Lady  Crabtree  always  did  good 
trencher  duty  even  when  fasting,  which  she 
did  after  her  own  fashion. 


314  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

Betty  Carew  could  not  eat,  she  was  far  too  anx 
ious  for  the  fate  of  the  man  she  loved,  and  she 
walked  to  and  fro,  wrapped  in  her  own  thoughts 
and  alone,  having  dismissed  the  woman.  Lord 
Raby  had  been  before  the  Council,  but  doubt 
less,  by  this  time,  was  back  in  the  Tower. 
How  had  it  fared  with  him  ?  she  wondered. 
Had  his  innocence  shone  out  clear  as  noonday, 
or  had  he  been  entrapped  by  the  skilful  cross- 
questioning  and  false  accusations  of  his  ene 
mies?  Believing  in  him  with  all  her  heart, 
she  was  yet  fully  conscious  of  the  pitfalls  in 
these  secret  proceedings,  and  she  trembled  for 
him.  It  was  in  her  nature  to  love  him  more 
dearly  in  the  hour  of  his  evil  fortune;  she 
possessed  that  loyalty  which  is  unshaken  by 
the  sharpest  trials,  and  her  greatest  sorrow 
now  was  her  own  inability  to  fight  his  battles 
for  him.  Her  persistence  had  won  the  king's 
attention  to  his  case,  had  roused  even  her 
uncle  from  his  angry  apathy,  had  stirred  old 
Madam  to  energetic  action;  but  now,  at  the 
supreme  moment,  being  a  woman,  she  was 
powerless  to  help  him.  She  longed  for  Sir 
William's  summons,  which  would  mean  that 
something  material  had  been  accomplished, 
and  in  her  eagerness,  she  ran  twenty  times  to 
the  window  and  looked  down  into  the  street;  a 


A   SNARE  315 

light  burned  in  the  court,  and  this  showed  her 
that  there  was  no  one  at  the  door.  The  time 
dragged  wearily;  Lady  Crabtree  came  not,  and 
•there  seemed  little  hope  of  any  decisive  action 
that  night.  Weary  of  her  restless  walk,  she 
sat  down  by  the  fire,  which  was  beginning  to 
burn  low,  and  waited.  Every  sound  in  the 
house,  every  step  in  the  hall  made  her  start 
with  impatience;  yet  she  scarcely  knew  what 
she  expected.  Nature  has  strong  claims  upon 
the  young  and  healthy ;  no  matter  how  great  the 
anxiety,  sleep  comes  at  last,  stealing  over 
the  senses,  pressing  down  the  lids,  stilling  the 
eager  heart-beats.  Betty  had  been  under  an 
almost  continuous  strain,  and  the  warmth  of  the 
fire  relaxed  her  nerves,  comforted  her  physical 
weariness;  her  head  drooped  on  her  hand, 
her  eyes  closed,  her  breathing  became  soft  and 
regular,  in  a  few  moments  she  would  have 
drifted  into  unconsciousness.  But  suddenly 
there  was  a  stir  below,  the  sound  of  feet  on  the 
stairs,  and  Lady  Crabtree's  woman  came  hurry 
ing  in.  Betty  started  up  at  once,  alert  and 
eager. 

"'Tis  a  message  from  my  uncle!"  she 
exclaimed;  "from  Sir  William  Carew?" 

"Two  men  with  a  litter  below,  mistress," 
the  woman  replied,  "and  a  message  from  Sir 


3l6  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

William   that  you  come  at  once  to  his  lodg 
ings." 

Betty's  fingers  trembled  with  eagerness  as 
she  fastened  her  cloak  with  the  attendant's, 
aid.  Something  had  happened,  something  was 
known;  she  could  not  brook  a  moment's  delay. 

"Shall  I  go  with  you,  Mistress  Betty?"  the 
tirewoman  asked. 

"Nay;  you  must  stay  for  Lady  Crabtree," 
Betty  replied;  "and  tell  her  where  I  am.  It 
does  not  matter;  I  can  go  alone  with  my 
uncle's  servants." 

Without  further  delay,  she  ran  lightly  down 
the  stairs,  where  she  found  two  serving  men 
in  Sir  William's  livery,  and  at  the  door  a 
litter  carried  by  four  others,  and  there  were 
two  pages  with  lanterns.  She  did  not  rec 
ognize  any  of  the  men,  but  observed  that 
one  was  cross-eyed,  a  powerful  fellow,  stand 
ing  by  the  litter.  She  asked  no  questions, 
but  sprang  into  her  place,  dropping  the  cur 
tains  to  keep  out  the  chill  night  air,  and  in 
a  moment  they  were  off  upon  their  journey. 
Her  attendants  said  nothing,  but  walked  so 
rapidly  along  the  streets  that  she  was  jolted 
from  side  to  side;  but  they  could  not  travel 
fast  enough  to  keep  pace  with  her  eagerness. 
Twice  or  thrice  she  peeped  out  from  behind 


A   SNARE  317 

her  curtains,  but  the  night  was  so  dark  that 
she  could  not  see  beyond  the  small  circles  of 
light  made  by  the  lanterns.  They  passed  the 
watch,  for  she  heard  them  answering  his  chal 
lenge,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  it  took  longer 
to  reach  Sir  William's  lodgings  than  it  had 
taken  to  come  from  them  earlier  in  the  even 
ing.  Yet  no  doubt  crossed  her  feverishly 
excited  brain,  and  she  was  all  hope  and  expec 
tation  when  at  last  the  party  halted,  and  the 
men  helped  her  to  alight.  She  had  been  but 
once  to  her  uncle's  quarters,  and  was  not  suffi 
ciently  familiar  with  them  to  be  startled  when 
she  found  herself  at  the  door  of  a  tall  house; 
but  something  in  its  aspect  roused  her  first 
suspicion.  Before  she  could  realize  where  she 
was,  the  door  opened,  and  partly  because  she 
was  not  yet  aroused,  and  partly,  too,  because 
the  men  gathered  behind  her,  leaving  no 
retreat,  she  entered,  and  seeing  a  staircase  like 
the  one  at  Sir  William's  lodgings,  began  to 
ascend.  Stopping  half-way,  she  asked  the  man 
who  followed  her,  the  cross-eyed  escort,  where 
her  uncle  was?  He  pointed  to  a  door  before 
her  without  speaking,  and  she  opened  it  and 
walked  in.  It  was  dimly  lighted,  and  at  the 
farther  end  was  standing  a  tall  man  with  his 
back  toward  her. 


318  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

"  Uncle,  I  have  come, "  she  exclaimed ;  "  what 
tidings  have  you?" 

He  turned  and  came  slowly  forward;  as  the 
light  of  the  solitary  taper  that  burned  on  the 
table  fell  on  his  face,  she  recognized  Sir 
Barton  Henge. 


CHAPTER    XXIX 

MASTER    CROSS-EYES 

THE  instant  that  Betty  Carew  recognized 
Sir  Barton's  dark  face,  she  recoiled  with  a  cry 
of  terror.  Her  first  thought  was  of  the  door  by 
which  she  had  entered,  but  when  she  ran  to  it 
she  found  it  fastened  on  the  outside.  There 
was  another  entrance,  but  that  was  behind 
Henge,  and  he  stepped  back,  and  locking  it, 
put  the  key  in  his  pocket  with  a  grim  smile. 
She  was  a  prisoner;  but  after  the  first  moment 
of  dismay,  she  collected  herself  and  confronted 
him  with  spirit.  She  was  angry  at  his  inso 
lent  daring,  and  her  cheeks  flushed  and  her 
eyes  sparkled. 

"Sir,"  she  said  proudly,  "what  means  this? 
How  dare  you  so  insult  me?  Undo  the  door 
and  let  me  go  or  you  will  answer  for  it  to  my 
uncle ! " 

Henge  laughed  and  sneered. 

"You  take  a  high  tone,  mistress,"  he  said 
tauntingly,  "but  it  will  be  long  ere  Carew 
finds  you;  you  are  safe  enough  at  last!" 


320  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

Betty's  anger  for  the  time  conquered  her 
womanly  fears;  her  hatred  of  the  man,  her 
contempt  for  an  act  that  seemed  to  her  one  of 
cowardly  wickedness,  made  her  forgetful  of 
her  peril. 

"You  villain!"  she  cried,  her  form  quiver 
ing  with  passion,  "have  you  no  better  employ 
ment  than  to  make  war  on  a  defenceless 
woman?  It  is  like  you!  He  who  would  strike 
a  man  from  ambush  is  capable  of  any  shame- 
lessness.  Undo  the  door,  sir,  or  I  will  call 
the  watch  and  make  your  name  a  byword  in 
London ! " 

"Scream  your  loudest;  it  will  not  aid  you," 
he  retorted  coolly.  "  Come,  come,  my  pretty 
shrew;  I  have  you  now,  and  you  shall  rue  the 
day  you  struck  my  face  with  your  whip." 

In  spite  of  her  anger,  a  feeling  of  dismay 
was  beginning  to  shake  Mistress  Betty's  reso 
lution.  She  remembered  that  there  was  a 
little  dagger  in  her  belt  that  she  had  thrust 
there  in  the  morning  when  she  set  out  to  the 
Tower.  The  thought  of  it  was  some  small 
comfort;  she  had,  at  least,  a  weapon.  She 
would  not  let  him  see  any  wavering;  she  held 
her  head  high  and  faced  him  like  a  beautiful 
fury. 

"  If  you  dare  to  harm  me,"  she  said  haughtily, 


MASTER   CROSS-EYES  $21 

"  Sir  William  Carew  will  leave  no  stone  un 
turned  until  you  are  brought  to  justice." 

Henge  laughed  again  his  unpleasant  laugh, 
that  rang  in  her  ears  with  the  sound  of  triumph 
in  it. 

"Look  you,  fair  mistress,  is  it  well  to  flaunt 
your  influence  in  my  face?"  he  asked  her. 
"  You  and  your  precious  lover  defied  me. 
Where  is  Simon  Rabynow?  Safe,  where  he 
can  neither  save  you  nor  himself.  A  traitor 
in  the  Tower!  Beware,  lest  Carew  falls  in  a 
like  trap." 

"Ah,  now  I  know!"  cried  Betty;  "a  fool  I 
was,  and  blind.  'T  is  you  who  ensnared  Lord 
Raby!  'tis  you  who  would  ruin  my  uncle. 
Villain!  liar!  coward!  I  defy  you!" 

"  You  young  she-devil,  you ! "  exclaimed 
Henge,  advancing  toward  her,  "I  would  wring 
that  white  neck  of  yours  for  your  insults,  did 
I  not  know  I  could  invent  a  slower,  surer 
punishment.  I  have  you,  my  shrew,  and  you 
shall  not  escape  me." 

At  his  first  step  toward  her,  Betty  retreated 
to  a  window,  and  now  she  tried  to  unfasten  the 
shutter,  crying  out  for  help  at  the  top  of  her 
strong,  young  voice. 

"  Scream  away ! "  said  Henge  bitterly,  his 
face  full  of  dark  enjoyment  of  her  despair,  "no 


322  THE   HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

one  will  help  you;  a  screaming  woman  in  this 
quarter  of  the  town  is  no  novelty.  Do  you 
look  for  your  lover  from  the  Tower  to  rescue 
you?  You  pretty  fool!"  he  added  contemptu 
ously,  "you  are  mine,  mine  as  sure  as  death!" 

Betty  was  no  coward;  she  put  her  hand  to 
her  girdle  and  felt  the  little  knife  there  safe. 
She  meant  to  kill  him  —  or  herself.  She  had 
a  firm,  strong  wrist  and  she  could  strike;  he 
was  a  powerful  man,  but  he  did  not  know  that 
she  was  armed,  and  an  unlooked-for  blow  might 
end  the  matter.  She  saw  the  evil  triumph  in 
his  face  and  set  her  teeth;  she  would  kill  him. 
He,  unconscious  of  her  purpose,  looked  at  her 
and  smiled,  as  a  devil  might,  who  saw  his  prey 
before  him. 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  strange  inter 
ruption  ;  the  door  that  Henge  had  not  fastened, 
the  one  that  had  been  secured  from  without, 
opened,  and  the  cross-eyed  man  entered,  and 
closing  it  behind  him,  stood,  with  his  arms 
folded  on  his  breast,  staring  at  Sir  Barton,  who, 
in  turn,  glared  at  him  in  furious  surprise. 

"What  are  you  here  for,  Master  Cross- 
Eyes?"  he  exclaimed.  "Get  out,  you  rogue, 
or  I  will  break  a  rod  on  your  bare  back  and  slit 
your  ears,  to  boot." 

The  groom  pointed  at  Betty. 


MASTER    CROSS-EYES  323 

"She  screamed,"  he  said  sullenly;  "  if  you 
hurt  a  hair  of  her  head,  I  '11  cut  your  throat, 
my  master!" 

"  You  accursed  villain,  you  !  "  cried  Henge, 
in  furious  anger,  "  how  dare  you  threaten  me  ? 
Is  it  for  this  that  I  dragged  you  from  the 
gutter?  " 

"Nay,"  retorted  Master  Cross-Eyes,  un 
moved;  "you  picked  me  up  from  the  slums 
because  you  wanted  desperate  men  to  do  your 
bidding ;  and  so  I  would,  if  the  case  were 
different,  but  Mistress  Carew  you  shall  not 
hurt." 

So  amazed  was  Henge  at  the  varlet's  cour 
age,  that  he  did  not  spurn  him  from  the  room 
at  once,  but  stared  at  him  as  if  he  doubted  his 
own  senses. 

"And  wherefore?  "  he  asked  harshly;  "what 
is  Mistress  Carew  to  you,  you  hound? " 

"  One  good  turn  deserves  another,  Sir 
Barton,"  the  groom  answered  curtly;  "this 
young  mistress  saved  my  neck  from  the  halter 
at  Deptford  when  old  Lady  Crabtree  would 
have  hung  me  as  a  valiant  beggar.  The  young 
lady  saved  me,  and,  by  Saint  Michael  and  his 
angels,  you  shall  not  harm  one  black  hair  of 
her  pretty  head  !  " 

"The  devil  take  your  insolence!"  retorted 


324  THE  HOUSE    OF  THE    WIZARD 

Henge  violently,  drawing  his  sword  and  rais 
ing  his  arm  to  strike  the  man  on  the  head  with 
the  flat  of  it,  intending  to  administer  a  lesson. 

But  Master  Cross-Eyes  was  more  than  his 
match  in  strength;  he  caught  his  arm,  and 
twisting  it  back,  sent  the  sword  flying  across 
the  room,  pushing  Henge  toward  the  wall  as 
he  did  so.  Sir  Barton,  now  fully  roused  to  his 
peril,  grappled  with  his  powerful  adversary, 
calling  loudly  for  help  as  he  did  so. 

"What  ho!"  he  shouted,  "John!  Andrew! 
Here,  you  villains,  take  this  fellow  to  the 
gallows ! " 

Master  Cross -Eyes  laughed,  much  as  Sir 
Barton  had  at  Betty's  cries  for  aid. 

"I  sent  them  all  below,"  he  said  grimly; 
"you  may  scream  as  loud  as  my  young  lady 
now,  and  get  no  aid." 

The  two  men  swayed  and  struggled,  the 
vagrant  having  the  advantage,  yet  closely 
pressed  by  Henge,  who  was  no  mean  opponent 
and  had  the  strength  of  wrath.  They  over 
turned  the  table,  and  the  taper  being  extin 
guished,  the  struggle  continued  in  darkness. 
Sir  Barton  was  striving  to  reach  the  door  and 
Cross-Eyes  was  pressing  him  away. 

At  first  Betty  was  so  wholly  fascinated  by 
the  contest,  so  amazed,  that  she  stood  gaz- 


MASTER   CROSS-EYES  $2$ 

ing,  completely  unnerved,  her  courage  desert 
ing  her  now  that  a  champion  was  so  sud 
denly  raised  up  for  her.  But  in  a  moment 
the  full  peril  of  her  own  situation  returned  to 
her  mind,  and  she  looked  for  a  way  to  escape 
while  the  two  were  fighting.  However,  this 
was  not  easy;  one  door  was  still  locked,  and 
before  the  other  the  men  were  struggling;  she 
could  not  pass  them  and  get  out,  for  they 
swayed  to  and  fro  before  the  entrance,  and 
when  the  taper  was  extinguished,  she  could 
not  see  to  move.  In  her  extremity,  she  put 
out  all  her  strength,  and  undoing  the  shutters 
at  last,  threw  them  open,  and  leaning  from  the 
window,  screamed  for  the  watch.  In  spite  of 
the  noise  that  the  two  men  made  fighting,  she 
heard  an  answering  shout,  and  cried  out  again 
that  there  was  murder  being  done.  As  she 
did  so,  there  was  a  groan  of  pain  from  Master 
Cross-Eyes  and  he  fell  heavily  to  the  floor; 
Henge  had  wrenched  his  hand  free  from  his 
adversary's  grip,  and  drawing  his  dagger, 
stabbed  him.  With  an  oath,  Sir  Barton  threw 
open  the  door  and  snatched  a  taper  from  its 
socket  in  the  hall  and  brought  it  into  the  room; 
the  sudden  light  revealed  to  Betty  the  pros 
trate  figure  of  her  defender  and  the  furious 
aspect  of  her  enemy.  He  kicked  the  groom  as 


326  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

he  passed  him  and  then  picked  up  his  sword. 
Seeing  her  last  hope  of  escape  cut  off,  Betty 
again  leaned  from  the  window  and  called  for 
help.  This  time  the  reply  came  from  the  court 
below,  and  there  was  a  noise  at  the  door. 
Expecting  the  watch,  Sir  Barton  turned  with  a 
curse  to  confront  him,  his  naked  sword  in  his 
hand.  The  scene  was  one  of  wild  confusion; 
the  taper  he  had  brought,  and  the  light  from 
the  hall  showed  the  scene  of  the  struggle,  the 
overturned  table  and  chairs,  the  unconscious 
body  of  the  vagrant,  and  in  the  window  Betty's 
tall  figure  and  white  face.  Hengc  himself 
stood  waiting  defiantly,  his  dress  wildly  dis 
ordered,  and  his  breast  heaving  from  his  recent 
struggle.  Footsteps  came  up  the  stairs,  paused 
as  if  a  stranger  were  looking  about  for  the  room 
from  which  the  screams  had  issued,  and  then 
came  across  the  hall.  The  next  moment  a  man 
stood  on  the  threshold,  and  at  the  sight  of  him 
Betty  uttered  a  wild  cry  of  amazement  and  joy, 
while  Henge  swore  a  deep  oath,  but  recoiled  a 
step  as  if  he  saw  a  ghost. 
It  was  Simon  Raby. 


CHAPTER   XXX 

SIR    WILLIAM    WINS    A    WAGER 

SIMOX  RABY  stood  only  a  moment  on  the 
threshold ;  a  single  glance  at  the  interior  of 
the  room,  at  Betty,  at  Master  Cross-Eyes, 
lying  prostrate,  and  at  the  furious  face  of 
Henge,  sufficed  to  tell  him  all.  The  next 
instant  his  sword  flashed  in  the  air  like  a 
ribbon  of  steel,  and  he  sprang  upon  Sir  Barton 
with  the  fury  of  revenge. 

"  You  villain  !  "  he  cried,  "  was  it  not  enough 
to  send  me  to  the  Tower,  but  you  must  also 
insult  and  injure  women?" 

"Curse  you!"  answered  Henge,  between 
his  teeth,  "this  shall  be  the  end  of  you,  you 
fool!" 

"  By  heaven ! "  exclaimed  Raby,  as  their 
swords  crossed,  "  't  will  be  either  you  or  I !  " 

Both  were  powerful  men  and  good  swords 
men,  and  it  being  the  second  time  that  they 
had  fought,  each  knew  something  of  the  other's 
play.  Henge  was  spent  from  his  struggle  with 
the  groom  and  Raby  had  felt  the  effects  of 


328  THE  HOUSE    OF  THE    WIZARD 

the  long  imprisonment,  but  both  fought  with 
furious  zeal,  and  knowing  that  death  was  in  the 
issue,  they  put  out  all  their  skill.  Foot  to 
foot  and  eye  to  eye,  they  thrust  and  parried ; 
Raby  taking  the  offensive  and  using  the  point 
as  he  endeavored  to  strike  under  his  adversary's 
guard,  but  Henge  was  one  of  the  finest  swords 
men  of  the  court  and  parried  every  blow  with 
marvellous  rapidity  and  skill.  The  breath  of 
both  came  short,  the  drops  of  perspiration 
gathered  on  Henge's  forehead,  while  Lord 
Raby's  face  paled  about  the  lips.  It  was  but 
the  different  way  in  which  each  showed  the 
strain.  So  determined  was  Simon's  onset,  that 
he  drove  Sir  Barton  back  step  by  step  toward 
the  table,  meaning  to  trip  him  and  so  have  him 
at  his  mercy;  but  Henge  knew  the  trap  that 
was  set  for  him  and  swerved  to  one  side,  deal 
ing  at  the  same  instant  so  dexterous  a  blow 
that  he  nearly  disarmed  his  opponent.  There 
was  no  sound  in  the  room  but  the  clash  of 
swords  and  the  labored  breathing  of  the  two 
combatants.  It  was  a  spectacle  worth  seeing, 
the  equal  contest  of  two  expert  fencers.  For  a 
few  moments  Betty  Carew  had  remained  at  her 
post  by  the  window,  so  amazed  at  Raby's 
entrance,  so  alarmed  for  his  safety,  that  it 
paralyzed  her  senses.  But  at  the  sight  of  Sir 


SfR    WILLIAM   WINS  A    WAGER  329 

Barton's  apparent  gain,*  she  awoke  from  her 
trance  and  ran  to  them,  throwing  herself  on 
Henge's  sword  arm  with  all  her  strength;  but 
he  took  his  weapon  in  his  left  hand  and  parried 
Raby's  blows  while  endeavoring  to  shake  her 
off. 

"Let  be,  my  darling!"  Simon  cried;  "I 
dare  not  strike  freely  with  you  in  the  way;  let 
be  —  and  I  will  end  it." 

But  Mistress  Betty  would  scarcely  have 
obeyed  him  but  for  the  sound  of  footsteps  on 
the  stairs.  She  ran  out  into  the  hall  to  learn 
whether  it  was  friend  or  foe,  and  saw,  to  her 
amazement,  old  Madam's  hawk  face  upon  the 
landing,  and  behind  her  the  captain  of  the 
watch  and  two  more  armed  men.  Betty  cried 
out  with  joyful  surprise. 

"Help,  help!"  she  exclaimed,  "here  is  the 
villain  Henge  trying  to  murder  Simon  Raby. " 

''This  all  comes  of  Raby's  mad  haste!" 
retorted  Lady  Crabtree ;  "'tis  ever  so  with 
fools  and  lovers." 

But  while  she  stayed  to  scold,  the  captain 
of  the  watch  and  Betty  had  hurried  back  into 
the  room.  As  they  reached  the  entrance,  how 
ever,  there  was  a  heavy  fall,  and  they  found 
Simon  Raby  standing  with  his  foot  on  Sir 
Barton's  breast  and  the  point  of  his  sword  at 


330  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

his  throat,  while  Master  Cross -Eyes,  who  had 
recovered  from  his  swoon,  sat  up,  staring 
blankly  at  the  changed  scene.  The  captain  of 
the  watch  uttered  an  exclamation  and  hurried 
forward. 

"  Have  you  killed  him,  my  lord  ?  "  he  asked. 

Henge  lay  so  still  that  Raby  stirred  him 
with  his  foot. 

"I  know  not,"  he  answered;  "he  has  a 
thrust  below  the  collar  bone,  but  I  think  't  is 
too  high  for  his  heart.  I  got  a  blow  under  his 
guard  and  he  went  down  like  a  sack  of  salt, 
and  has  not  opened  bis  eyes  since." 

"  'T  was  a  pity  to  kill  him/'"  the  officer  said, 
laying  his  hand  on  the  fallen  man's  heart; 
"my  lord  privy  seal  would  have  him  taken 
alive  at  all  costs." 

The  room  began  to  fill  with  strangers,  twenty 
torches  and  lanterns  were  about  it  and  on  the 
stairs ;  the  court  was  thronged  with  a  gaping 
crowd  that  fell  back  to  let  two  new-comers 
pass,  Sir  William  Carew  and  Cromwell.  Some 
one  had  run  for  a  leech,  and  the  little  man 
came  hurrying  in  with  his  bag  and  knelt  on 
the  other  side  of  Henge,  opposite  the  captain. 
Old  Madam  was  there,  her  farthingale  tucked 
up  and  her  great  boots  showing,  and  Betty 
Carew  stood  leaning  on  the  arm  of  Lord  Raby, 


SSA'    WILLIAM  WINS  A    WAGER  331 

who  had  no  eyes  save  for  her,  and  was  whisper 
ing  in  her  ear  fond  and  joyful  words  while  the 
others  gathered  around  Henge.  There  was 
silence  and  confusion,  however,  when  my  lord 
privy  seal  entered  with  Carew. 

"Ah,  this  is  blundering  work!"  Cromwell 
exclaimed,  at  the  sight  of  the  prostrate  figure; 
"this  man  was  needed  by  the  State.  "Who 
did  this?" 

Raby  stood  forth,  and  in  a  moment  the  light 
of  all  the  torches  was  centered  on  his  pale  face 
and  disordered  dress. 

"My  lord,"  he  said,  "  't  was  I  who  disobeyed 
your  instructions.  When  I  received  the  warn 
ing,  sent  by  one  of  this  villain's  grooms,  I  ran 
with  all  speed  to  the  house,  and  hearing  a  cry 
for  help,  came  in,  the  door  being  unlocked,  as 
had  been  promised.  I  found  this  devil  here, 
trying  to  keep  this  young  lady  a  prisoner. 
We  fought  and  he  fell ;  I  knew  not  that  I  had 
seriously  hurt  him." 

Cromwell  was  watching  the  doctor,  who  had 
his  ear  against  Sir  Barton's  breast. 

"  Is  he  gone?  "  he  asked  sharply. 

"Nay,  my  lord,"  replied  the  physician,  look 
ing  up;  "he  lives,  but  he  is  sorely  wounded 
and  stunned  too,  by  striking  his  head  on  the 
table  as  he  fell." 


332  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

"  Use  your  skill  to  save  him, "  said  Cromwell, 
coldly;  "the  State  requires  this  witness." 
Then  turning  to  Raby,  "  My  lord,  matters 
standing  a,=  they  do,  I  pardon  you;  but  never 
try  to  cheat  the  headsman,  albeit  'tis  the 
natural  office  of  a  good  knight  to  rescue  dis 
tressed  demoiselles,  and  this  fair  lady  merited 
the  service  at  your  hands,  having  ever  been  a 
suitor  for  you,  even  to  the  king's  grace.  Sir 
William,"  he  went  on,  "how  came  this  ending 
to  the  muddle?  " 

"My  lord,  I  caught  Raby's  servant,  Shaxter, 
early  in  the  evening,  and,  as  you  know,  my 
Lady  Crabtree  and  I  soon  found  a  way  to 
make  him  confess  that  Henge  had  bribed 
him  to  change  the  packet  that  I  gave  to  Raby 
for  one  that  Henge  had  full  of  treasonable 
matter.  Shaxter  changed  the  packets  when 
he  helped  his  master  to  dress,  just  before  he 
was  arrested." 

"  Ay,  arrested  at  the  complaint  of  Henge, 
who  came  to  me  with  every  protest  of  loyalty; 
not  that  he  deceived  me,"  Cromwell  added, 
"  but  the  papers  found  on  Lord  Raby  did 
mightily  confirm  his  words.  I  know  how  you 
brought  the  villain  Shaxter  to  me  when  I  had 
Raby  at  my  house  for  private  examination ;  it 
was  a  happy  matter  that  I  could  at  once  release 


SSA    WILLIAM   WINS  A    WAGER  333 

him,  but  how  came  this  villain's  schemes  to 
night  to  miscarry  so?" 

"His  servants  were  all  false  to  him,"  Sir 
William  answered,  "and  one  of  them  sent  us 
warning  that  he  intended  to  carry  off  my  niece, 
whom  he  has  ever  claimed  as  his  affianced  wife 
because  of  an  old  contract  made  when  she  was 
born.  I  know  not  yet  which  varlet  of  his  did 
us  this  signal  service." 

Cromwell's  keen  eyes  alighted  on  Master 
Cross-Eyes,  who  sat  leaning  on  the  table,  too 
badly  hurt  to  rise,  but  overlooked  in  the  tumult. 

"Ah,  who  is  this?"  asked  the  privy  seal; 
"how  many  were  in  this  affray? " 

Betty  Carew  came  forward  now  and  answered 
for  her  champion. 

"Sir,"  she  said  eagerly,  "but  for  that  man 
I  should  scarcely  have  escaped  so  soon.  He 
took  my  part,  and  fought  with  Henge  in  my 
behalf,  and  from  my  heart  I  thank  him." 

"Is  it  so?"  exclaimed  Cromwell,  glancing 
in  some  surprise  at  the  unpleasing  aspect  of 
the  man;  "what  say  you,  knave,  how  came  you 
to  serve  this  lady?  " 

Master  Cross-Eyes  looked  up  without  any 
change  in  the  sullen  expression  of  his  face. 

"The  young  mistress  saved  me  from  the 
hangman  when  ycnder  big-nosed  woman  would 


334  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

have  put  a  halter  on  my  neck,"  he  retorted 
bluntly,  conscious  that  his  night's  work  would 
protect  him;  "and  I  sent  the  warning  to  Sir 
William,  despatched  my  comrades,  who  hated 
Henge,  for  he  was  ever  a  hard  master,  full  of 
blows  and  curses  and  slow  to  pay,  and  I  stayed 
to  protect  Mistress  Carew. " 

"By  Saint  Thomas,  'tis  the  valiant  beggar 
that  I  had  scourged  at  Wildrick!"  cried  old 
Madam ;  "  may  Heaven  forgive  me  for  it !  You 
shall  have  a  gold  piece  for  every  blow  and 
more,"  she  added.  "Here,  Sir  Leech,  look  to 
his  wounds  at  my  cost." 

"His  service  has  atoned  his  fault,"  Crom 
well  said  gravely;  "but  look  you,  varlet,  being 
strong  enough  to  fight  and  shrewd  enough  to 
catch  a  traitor,  if  you  do  not  work  henceforth, 
you  shall  hang  at  Tyburn." 

"My  lord,"  interposed  Raby,  "he  will  be 
taken  into  my  service  for  his  lifetime,  and  that 
is  not  enough  to  pay  the  debt." 

"Ay,"  said  Carew,  "and  he  is  like  to  make 
a  better  servant  than  the  knave  we  have  in  jail, 
who  served  you  as  I  foretold.  My  lord,  you 
owe  me  the  wager." 

"It  shall  be  paid,"  Raby  answered  heartily; 
"yet  do  I  think  you  never  dreamed  that  he  was 
as  bad  as  he  has  proved." 


WILLIAM    WINS  A    WAGER  335 

"'Tis  as  I  told  you,"  Sir  William  retorted 
dryly. 

While  this  was  passing,  Cromwell  gave 
some  brief  directions  to  the  captain  of  the 
watch  and  his  assistants,  who  were  lifting 
Henge's  still  unconscious  form  upon  a 
stretcher. 

"To  the  Tower,"  said  the  king's  minister, 
"and  keep  him  safe;  to-morrow  he  will  have  to 
answer  to  the  Council  if  he  lives, — he  and 
Zachary  Sanders." 

Lord  Raby  had  tenderly  placed  the  mantle 
about  Betty's  shoulders  and  drawn  her  arm 
through  his,  for  they  were  all  preparing  to 
leave  the  house.  Cromwell,  turning  from  his 
talk  with  the  officers,  looked  at  the  lovers,  and 
a  smile  lighted  up  for  a  moment  the  stern 
reserve  of  his  strong  face. 

"My  Lord  Raby,"  he  said  quietly,  "never, 
I  think,  had  man  better  cause  to  bless  his  fate 
for  giving  him  a  faithful  heart.  This  lady  hath 
been  untiring,  brave,  and  loyal  in  her  suit  for 
you.  Save  for  her,  the  king's  grace  would 
scarcely  have  thought  of  your  cause  in  this  sad 
hour,  when  the  Queen  of  England  lies  dead  at 
Hampton  Court.  Fair  and  faithful  Mistress 
Carew, "  he  added,  bowing  low  over  Betty's 
hand,  "  I  have  had  to  fulfil  an  unpleasant  office; 


336  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

the  king's  servant  must  do  his  duty  even 
though  he  should  break  a  woman's  heart;  but 
never  yet  have  I  done  mine  so  heavily  as  when 
I  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  your  suit.  I  shall  take  it 
ill  if  you  ask  me  not  to  the  wedding." 


CHAPTER   XXXI 
THE  WIZARD'S  FATE 

IN  the  trial  that  followed,  the  lost  threads 
of  the  great  conspiracy  were  found ;  and  more, 
it  was  said  that  the  secret  examination  of 
Henge  gave  Cromwell  the  first  clue  to  the 
treason  of  Exeter  and  Lady  Salisbury,  and 
more  noble  blood  flowed  on  the  scaffold.  Sir 
Barton  suffered  a  traitor's  death,  dying  as 
impenitent  as  he  had  lived,  and  cursing  his 
fate  that  Zachary  Sanders  did  not  share  it. 
And  he  did  not,  although  the  case  against  him 
was  far  stronger  than  against  his  more  violent 
accomplice.  The  wizard  was  tried  and  con 
demned  to  be  hanged,  but  no  halter  was  placed 
around  his  neck. 

A  strange  thing  happened.  The  day  set  for 
his  execution  came,  and  he  was  led  out  of  the 
Traitors'  Gate  into  a  barge  to  take  him  to  the 
place  where  he  was  to  suffer  for  his  treason, 
which  had  been  black  enough  to  hang  forty 
men  as  well  as  one.  He  was  bound,  at  least, 
so  said  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  and  went 


338  THE  HOUSE   OF   THE    WIZARD 

under  strong  guard  in  the  king's  boat,  yet  in 
mid  stream  he  leaped  overboard  and  disap 
peared.  His  keepers  swore  that  it  was  magic; 
one  smelled  sulphur  and  one  swooned  with 
horror  at  a  vision  he  saw  in  the  water.  The 
truth  of  the  matter  no  man  ever  knew,  except 
that  six  stout  yeomen  of  the  Tower  suffered  for 
the  prisoner's  escape,  and  the  wizard  was  never 
seen  alive  again.  But  for  years  afterwards 
there  was  a  story  that  he  haunted  his  house 
upon  the  Thames,  and  that  at  night  a  red  light 
shone  from  every  window,  and  his  small  figure 
was  seen  flitting  about  on  the  flat  roofs  of  those 
two  upper  stories.  The  shadow  of  the  little 
man  in  the  russet  cloak  haunted  every  old 
wife's  memory  in  that  neighborhood,  and 
whether  he  lay  dead  at  the  bottom  of  the  river, 
or  lived  in  some  other  region,  he  was  still  a 
terror  to  the  imagination  of  many  of  his  old- 
time  clients,  and  his  name  hushed  many  a  cry 
ing  child  with  terror  when  all  else  had  failed. 
It  was  even  whispered  that  had  he  been  set 
free,  Queen  Jane  would  not  have  sickened  and 
died,  and  Prince  Edward  would  have  been  a 
baby  of  better  promise,  and  not  with  that  look 
which  made  the  old  women  shake  their  heads 
in  grim  foreboding. 

At  Christmas  of  that  year,  the   bells   rang 


THE    WIZARD'S  FATE  339 

merrily  at  Mohun's  Ottery,  and  my  lord  privy 
seal  came  there  to  grace  the  wedding  of  Lord 
Raby  and  Mistress  Betty  Carew;  and  the 
bride  wore  on  her  neck  a  splendid  jewel,  sent 
by  the  king's  grace  in  memory  of  her  petition 
for  her  lover.  Nor  was  she  portionless, 
although  the  child  of  Sir  Thomas,  for  my  Lady 
Crabtree  gave  her  a  dowry,  and  it  was  said 
that  in  old  Madam's  will  she  was  the  heiress 
to  the  vast  fortune  that  had  accumulated  and 
doubled  under  Lady  Crabtree's  shrewd  manage 
ment.  Sir  William  Carew  gave  away  the 
bride,  who  looked  the  great  beauty  that  she 
was  in  her  white  robes  and  with  the  light  of 
love  and  happiness,  which  is  a  wondrous  beau- 
tifier,  in  her  brown  eyes.  It  was  said  that 
there  had  never  been  a  more  stately  or  hand 
some  couple  wedded  in  Devon,  or  a  finer  wed 
ding;  though  some  stared  at  the  groom's 
strange  servant,  for  Master  Cross-Eyes,  even 
in  his  wedding  garments,  looked  a  rough 
attendant;  but  to  Lady  Raby  he  seemed  an 
angel  in  disguise. 

Standing  beside  her  husband,  Betty  looked 
about  the  great  hall  thronged  with  guests  in 
her  honor,  and  in  her  heart  she  remembered 
the  sad  and  penniless  orphan  who  had  come 
there  a  fjw  years  before.  In  her  happiness 


340  THE  HOUSE   OF  THE    WIZARD 

she  did  not  forget  her  thanksgiving  to  Heaven 
for  the  wonderful  change  which  had  come  into 
her  life,  which,  stretching  out  before  her  in  a 
golden  vista,  seemed  to  hold  only  love  and 
hope. 


THE    END. 


ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE 

BY  M.  IMLAY   TAYLOR. 

With  Frontispiece.    lamo,  352  pages.    Price,  $1.25. 


The  scene  of  this  thrilling  story  is  Moscow,  and  the 
time,  the  boyhood  of  Peter  the  Great.  Much  of  the  action 
takes  place  "  On  The  Red  Staircase  "  in  the  palace  of  the 
Kremlin. 

It  is  a  thrilling  tale  of  intrigue  and  barbaric  plot.  A  French  visoount 
visiting  Moscow  on  a  diplomatic  service  is  the  hero;  and  his  adventures 
while  trying  to  rescue  the  beautiful  Zenaide  from  a  cruel  uncle,  who  is 
bent  upon  marrying  her  to  a  profligate,  are  constant  and  of  an  intense 
order  of  interest.  .  .  .  The  scenes  are  exciting.  Escapes  follow  escapes. 
Secret  missions  with  packets  (stolen  by  hidden  pursuers)  are  incidents  of 
the  plot ;  while  sword-cuts,  pinionings,  attacks  of  all  kinds,  kidnapping, 
and  desperate  acts  fill  the  pages.  .  .  .  The  book  is  exciting,  well  sustained 
and  excellently  written.  .  .  .  Another  "Zenda"  story.  —  Chi.igo  Times- 
Herald. 

A  most  vivid  and  absorbing  tale  of  love  and  adventure.  .  .  .  Miss 
Taylor  has  certainly  an  unusual  gift  of  vivid  word  painting ;  and  as  we 
read,  we  can  almost  see  the  savage  mob,  and  feel  ourselves  to  be  in  dan 
ger.  "  On  the  Red  Staircase  "  will  give  a  far  truer,  because  more  strik 
ing  and  life-like,  picture  of  early  Russian  history  than  a  multitude  of 
laboriously  written  and  ponderous  histories  of  the  time,  and  the  authoress 
has  apparently  a  most  promising  future  before  her.  —  The  Churchman, 
New  York. 

After  the  many  problem-novels  and  the  myriad  psychological  dis 
quisitions  disguised  as  fiction,  a  wholesome,  breezy  tale  like  this,  honestly 
and  brilliantly  told  for  its  own  sake,  is  a  real  treat  to  be  enjoyed  without 
thought  or  criticism.  —  The  Bookman,  New  York. 

A  strong,  bracing  story  it  is,  and  one  which  gives  us  a  clear  view  of 
an  exceptionally  interesting  epoch  in  Russian  history.  —  New  York 
Hsrald. 


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By  M.   IMLAY   TAYLOR 

With  Frontispiece.     i2mo.    377  pages.    Price,  $1.25 

Miss  M.  Imlay  Taylor  will  be  remembered  as  the  author 
of  a  spirited  Russian  historical  novel  called  "  On  the  Red 
Staircase,"  which  has  attained  a  wide  reading  the  past  year. 
She  has  now  written  a  second  novel  of  the  same  general  de 
scription,  called  "  An  Imperial  Lover."  Again  the  scene  is 
the  Russian  court,  this  time  in  the  reign  of  Peter  the  Great, 
who  plays  a  very  important  part  in  the  plot.  The  tale  is  one 
of  love,  of  intrigue,  and  of  adventure,  and  seems  to  us  even 
better  than  its  predecessor. —  The  Outlook,  New  York. 

The  setting  is  admirably  adapted  to  development  under 
a  skillful  hand,  and  the  author  has  succeeded  in  this  under 
taking. —  The  Washington  Star. 

M.  Imlay  Taylor  has  the  story-teller's  gift  in  perfection. 
Every  word  of  her  new  Russian  romance,  "  An  Imperial 
Lover,"  is  as  captivating  as  was  every  word  of  "  On  the  Red 
Staircase." — The  Times-Herald,  Chicago. 

The  story  abounds  in  exciting  incidents  and  has  no  dull 
pages. —  The  Inter-Ocean,  Chicago. 

M.  Imlay  Taylor  gives  us  a  picturesque  and  interesting 
sketch  of  Moscow  society  during  an  eminently  interesting 
period,  and  tells  a  capital  story.—  The  Scotsman,  Edinburgh. 

The  novel  not  only  shows  careful  and  intelligent  study  of 
the  period,  but  it  is  skilfully  constructed,  well  written,  and 
thoroughly  interesting. —  The  Spectator,  London. 


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Chicago. 


By  M.   IMLAY   TAYLOR 

I2mo.        383  pages.        Price,  $1.25 


A  painstaking  chronicle  of  the  principal  incidents  in  the 
sanguinary  struggle  between  Great  Britain  and  her  North 
American  Colonies.  .  .  .  There  is  not  a  dull  page  in  this  ex 
cellent  historical  romance. — Daily  Telegraph,  London,  Eng. 

It  is  a  far  cry  from  Russia  to  the  United  States,  yet  Mary 
Imlay  Taylor,  who  has  written  some  most  interesting  stories 
of  intrigue  and  fighting  at  St.  Petersburg,  shows  in  her  latest 
romance,  "A  Yankee  Volunteer,"  that  she  is  quite  as  much 
at  home  in  America  as  in  the  Czar's  country.  Her  new  book 
has  for  historic  background  the  events  of  the  first  half  of  the 
Revolutionary  War,  and  it  tells  a  love  story  which  is  charming 
and  quite  a  part  of  the  stern  adventures  that  make  a  hero. — 
Evening  Bulletin,  Philadelphia. 

It  is  a  good  story  —  this  of  the  Yankee  rebel  —  "  so  gallant 
in  love  and  so  dauntless  in  war,"  and  of  the  sweet  Royalist 
who  at  last  became  a  "rebel"  for  love  of  him.  —  Living 
Church,  Chicago. 

"A  Yankee  Volunteer"  is  indeed  a  story  fraught  with 
such  exquisite  beauty  as  is  seldom  associated  with  history. — 
Boston  Times. 

The  story  is  beautifully  written,  and  moves  with  the 
dignity  and  quaintness  inseparable  from  the  successful  his 
torical  novel. — St.  Paul  Pioneer  Press. 

A  fascinating  picture  of  the  royalist  and  patriot  social 
elements  of  revolutionary  days. — Boston  Globe. 


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Chicago. 


THE    BEVERLEYS. 

A  Story  of  Calcutta. 

BY    MARY   ABBOTT, 

Author  of  "  Alexia,"  etc. 

izmo,  264  pages.     Price,  $1.00. 


THE  uncommonly  favorable  reception  of  Mrs.  Abbott's  brilliant 
novelette,  "  Alexia,"  by  the  public  bespeaks  in  advance  a  lively 
interest  in  her  new  novel,  "  The  Beverleys."  It  is  a  more  extended 
and  ambitious  work  than  the  former,  but  has  the  same  grace  of  style 
and  liveliness  of  treatment,  together  with  a  much  more  considerable 
plot  and  more  subtle  delineations  of  character  and  life.  The  action 
of  the  story  takes  place  in  India,  and  reveals  on  the  part  of  the 
authoress  the  most  intimate  knowledge  of  the  official  life  of  the 
large  and  aristocratic  English  colony  in  Calcutta.  The  local  color 
ing  is  strong  and  unusual. 

A  more  joyous  story  cannot  be  imagined.  ...  A  harum-scarum 
good-nature;  a  frank  pursuit  of  cakes  and  ale;  a  heedless,  happy- 
go-lucky  spirit,  are  admirable  components  in  a  novel,  however  trying 
they  may  be  found  in  the  walks  of  daily  life.  Such  are  the  pleas 
ures  of  "The  Beverleys."  To  read  it  is  recreation,  indeed. — 
Public  Ledger,  Philadelphia. 

The  author  writes  throughout  with  good  taste,  and  with  a  quick 
eye  for  the  picturesque.  —  Herald,  New  York. 

It  is  a  pretty  story,  charmingly  written,  with  cleverly  sketched 
pictures  of  various  types  of  character  .  .  .  The  book  abounds  in 
keen,  incisive  philosophy,  wrapped  up  in  characteristic  remarks.  — 
Times,  Chicago 

An  absorbing  story.  It  is  brilliantly  and  vivaciously  written.  — 
Literary  World,  Boston. 

The  author  has  until  now  been  known,  so  far  as  we  are  aware, 
only  by  her  former  story,  "  Alexia."  Unless  signs  fail  which  sel 
dom  do  fail,  these  two  with  which  her  name  is  now  associated  are 
simply  the  forerunners  of  works  in  a  like  vein  of  which  American 
Jiterature  will  have  reason  to  be  proud.  —  Standard,  Chicago. 


Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  mailed,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

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